Trying to push the past away 2
by Grey Pigeon
Summary: Freed from some of the burden, Legolas attempts to lead a normal life again. Thankful for his new friendships and touched by strange feelings towards his Master, he will have to withstand certain persons from his past, who are still intent on hurting him.
1. Cleansing

TRYING TO PUSH THE PAST AWAY

BOOK TWO

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "The Lord Of The Rings". Whole recognizable belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Written only for fun, no money made.

GENRE: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Romance

WARNINGS: AU! (Mind my words! You have been warned.) Legolas OOC. This story contains SLASH, means male/male relationship. Other than that, disturbing themes: angst, torture, violence, physical/mental/drug abuse, rape. Special warnings will be placed before each chapter.

For this one: flashbacks, and a small slashy surprise.^^

SUMMARY: Having freed himself from some of the burden, Legolas attempts to lead a normal life again. Thankful for his new friendships and touched by strange feelings towards his Master, he will have to withstand certain persons from his past, who are still intent on hurting him…

CHARACTERS: Legolas, Elrond, Glorfindel, Elladan & Elrohir, Erestor, Thrandruil, Gandalf, Lindir. Some persons I made up in addition.

TIMELINE: 2530 year of the Third Age. Celebrian has sailed over the sea twenty years ago. The new darkness is growing in Dol Guldur. Aragorn is not yet born.

FEEDBACK: Highly appreciated and desired! I try to answer every review.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The first chapter! Finally. I'm excited, truth be told, and a bit fearful about your opinions^^ Please, give me some feedback! I am so glad to be with you again. Next chapter will appear in two weeks time or so, I need to resit one more exam at the very end of September. Blah…

Enjoy!^^

Chapter 1 : CLEANSING

/*/

A shrilling, girlish peep of joy was heard when the two pairs of bare feet clapped on the stone floor. Two she-Elves jumped into the pool of hot, steamy water, wearing only white, short towels wrapped around them; the first laughed as the other started to splash water on her face and head, escaping from the imminent revenge by a dive underneath the surface. She emerged quickly though, spluttering and shaking the water off just like a dog, to create further fuss around her black-haired companion. Tall and supple like young birchwood trees, the girls were jumping in the water and swimming in small circles. Long legs paddled the water, sending it flying all around, creating wet stains on the grey stone.

The twin figures of Elves followed the example and stepped into the pool also, but with some more dignity. Trying to maintain a straight face, one of them settled for separating the ladies, when the other softly coaxed the last participator to join them in the water. The boys had the towels casually wrapped around their hips, but that last Elf – clearly nervous and uneasy – would gladly cover himself up to the tips of his pointed ears.

"Legolas, come on," Elladan encouraged. "There is nothing you should be ashamed of. Come."

As if coming to a decision, the Elf checked the secure wrapping of his towel for the hundredth time and slowly, hesitantly sat on the edge of the pool to gently lower himself into the water.

"It's hot," he murmured. "It really is hot. That's amazing."

"A hot spring. You have never used one before?" Elrohir asked. Legolas mumbled something, not looking him in the eye; Verién shot her cousin a look of endless pity. Surely a slave in Mirkwood could not count on a hot bath, not ever. Legolas' reaction was justified.

"The water from these springs is transported into the palace also," Arwen explained. "Special clay pipes distribute it around the place. The water is needed in the common baths, the healing wing and in the kitchens; though the kitchens rather use water from the well on the back courtyard. Ada needs water too, in the healing room and in his study, where he prepares the medicines."

"How come the water goes up the levels to his study?" Legolas asked, curious.

"Special pumps," Arwen smiled. "Erestor's design. Many of them. You had used common baths before, you know the water there is also warm. That is because the baths are located in the East Wing, very close to the springs."

Legolas nodded silently, wrapping his hands around him. He cowered in the corner of the pool and was slowly looking around the big cave they were in. The air was steamy; puffs of steam were obscuring the vision slightly, spreading a silver veil over the walls of grey, irregular stone. The ceiling was almost completely hidden behind the vapour, yet it could be recognized as one decorated with natural carvings of water trickling down the cave walls. Here and there, in special recesses filled with fertile soil, thick and tangled limbs of the evergreen ivy were creeping down to the floor or climbing upwards. Each of the three pools, specially adapted for the purpose of healing baths, was framed with wood on the edges and filled to the rim with the bubbling, pleasantly hot water, smelling slightly of moss and wet earth; one could stretch his arms to the sides and surrender himself to the benevolent bath. Elladan did just that, casting his head back with a blissful sigh.

"Indeed," he said slowly, "it is fortunate to have a hot spring nearby. It is great to come here and relax after a battle, reconnaissance or a hard training. The water has some healing properties, isn't that so?"

"Well, yes. The complement of the water contains calcium and magnesium." Arwen carried on, content of being asked, negligently splashing water on Verién, who made a face. "It is known for it's relaxing properties, anti-stress action and general remedy for exhaustion. It helps for migraine, insomnia and various neurosis, cures joint aches and other bone diseases known amidst human kind," she said.

"If it helps to cure nerves, it's good for Legolas," Elrohir judged. "Relax, mate. That's what we are here for. We have a day off. It is too cold already to go outside and spend the day there, libraries are dusty, and the kitchens crowded. This is the best place to be now."

"My nerves are fine." Legolas argued silently, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the water.

"They could be finer." Verién rubbed a itching point on her shoulder and advanced towards him, gently grasping his hand and pulling with her to the middle of the pool, on a deeper water. "Come on now. Is it because you can't swim or because we're all undressed?" she asked, holding him safely, but allowing him to feel how it feels like being carried by the water. His eyes widened at the experience.

"Both, I guess," he said quietly, holding onto her forearms. The twins also came closer.

"We can teach you how to swim," Elladan offered, reaching with his hands so that Legolas could catch them. "It's not that difficult. All you really have to do is to surrender to the water," he shrugged.

"It doesn't have to be now, now only enjoy yourself," Elrohir interrupted, seeing how Legolas immediately tensed. "Don't push him too far." He turned to his brother.

"I'm not pushing anybody!"

"Yes, you are, my obtuse brother." Elrohir snorted, reaching for Legolas, who hesitantly let go of the safe point of the other twin's arms and travelled to the first.

"And as for us being in towels only, there is really no reason to be ashamed," Arwen said gently.

"Easy for you to say," Verién snorted. "Each time I see you I go green from envy. How did you grow these?" she lit up in a smile, feeling up the towel on top of her swan breast. The twins cackled loudly, and even Legolas dared a little snicker.

"Naturally," Arwen pretended to be outraged. "As everything else, of course."

"The figure, the hair, and all this, this… make-up, dresses, odds and sods you use for your hair… how are you doing this?" Verién inquired, splashing water on her cousin, laughing good-heartedly.

"I'm being an Arwen." She raised her perfect eyebrows and gave Verién a look of utter victory.

Verién rolled her eyes, sighed and changed the point of interest quickly. She pulled Elladan's arm to come closer.

"Legolas, look. I want to show you something. Here," she pointed a long, fair scar on Elladan's back. "He got that in a battle with an orc horde in the South. For two weeks he was walking around in glory of a hero because of that wound." Elrohir burst into a mocking laughter, and his brother immediately grabbed him by the neck and forced to show a scar of his own.

"And this is a scar my jealous brother got when he was running away from his opponent on a friendly spar" Elladan said in a sneering tone, but stopped when a fist connected with his side and Elrohir started explaining on his own, trying to hold his twin underneath the water surface. General laughter issued, when the girls tried to separate the brothers and the splashes were sent high into the air.

"Every scar has its history," Verién smiled. "It is our past, they remind you that you have been fighting, no matter the outcome. Look at that," she showed him faint marks around her ankle. "I was trapped in snares, as a little girl I liked to roam the bushes a lot. But uncle Elrond managed to save my leg."

"Here, the orc arrow," Elladan pointed a darker patch of skin on his shoulder.

"An axe. It was the width of a hair that saved me" Elrohir presented a wide stripe on his left thigh.

"Or here. Wounds left by teeth are awful to heal," Verién grimaced and lifted the towel over her hip to show ragged marks creating an uneven pattern. "That was several years ago too... I don't have anything fresh, I'm afraid…" she said in a sad tone, what made the twins cackle again. "And you, Arwen? Show something of yours."

"I have no scars, luckily. I had one, very small, on my knee, but there is no trace left by now."

"It disappeared?" Legolas asked. "How?"

"With time." Arwen smiled broadly. "All the scars my brothers have are fairly recent, that's why they are still visible. But Elven skin heals to the point of disappearance of any bruises, scars, any marks blemishing it. And that is why your scars will one day fade too, and they will be fading until they are thoroughly gone."

Legolas was looking at her as if he saw her for the first time. Then his eyes slowly lit with hope he could not truly hide – and his arms, wrapped securely around his chest, loosened their hold.

"But… but Verién…" he hesitated and the hands lifted again.

"But Legolas, I'm not _that_ Elven, you know," the girl created a small wave and sent it towards him.

"That means, I will be… like, normal again?"

"Legolas, you _are_ normal," Elladan turned the Elf to himself and lifted his chin. "What we have been telling you?"

"I am a free, equal, worthy person who is being cared for and protected by his friends," Legolas recited, but turned his head away from Elladan's hand.

"But you know it's not about the memorizing thing?"

"You make me repeat it so many times a day I had to memorize it."

Verién sighed and dragged Legolas to the middle again.

"Listen, I think you are a really nice young Elf. Even with the scars." She offered kindly. "You have the most subtle face in Imladris, the most deep-blue eyes and hair that is golden silk. Your skin is ivory now, the colour of an almond, not ugly white, not covered with bruises. You are not skeleton-like any more, you are slim and shapely, but no longer malnourished. You can trust me, I'm a woman; you are handsome." She smiled at his disbelieving expression. "Ask Arwen if you don't believe me."

"Yes, you are," the black-haired Elf replied. "You are handsome, just like the other Elven boys around are handsome. But there is more to you, this unique aura, your behaviour and kindness, then your story and strength of spirit: and that combined makes you not only handsome, but beautiful."

Legolas lowered his eyes. He could not really agree with all that the girls were saying, but he understood the message. His cheeks reddened against his will, and the twins snorted with laughter, just like he predicted.

"But the truth is," Elladan said indicating the girls, "they are not the only ones that think so."

Legolas shot him a surprised glare.

"Well, exactly. I'm not going to mention a horde of household girls, but there is something more interesting. Just two days ago I eavesdropped a conversation," Elrohir said mysteriously looking carefully around the cave, but they were alone. "between Lindir and Lord Aegnor."

"Lord Lindir…?" Legolas asked slowly.

"Yes, the famous minstrel. He was enchanted by your voice, like he said, from the very first moment he heard it. In his opinion your voice is as beautiful as the rest of your body and it stands for a perfect confluence. And Lord Aegnor agreed wholeheartedly, adding that you are the most appetizing, intriguing Elf among all the free ones." Elrohir ended, hoping he didn't say too much. For the record, Lord Aegnor used the word 'juicy', but the twin thought that expression much too scary.

"They really said that…?" Legolas's eyes gone wide and his arms came around his body once more, tighter than before. He was just starting to like Lindir, who promised to show him how to play a harp, and the kind Lord Aegnor was quite an often guest in the kitchens lately, asking for tea and snacks to be brought to his chamber by Legolas personally.

"But don't be scared," Verién said immediately. "They're not going to do anything you do not consent to. Acknowledging beauty does not always lead to courting. And even if it did this time, it is very pleasant to be wooed."

"But, they are… they can…" Legolas stammered, feeling suddenly cold despite the hot and steamy water.

"Legolas, what we have been telling you?" Elrohir once again asked. Legolas turned to him, clearly irritated.

"That I am a free, equal…"

"Exactly!" Arwen stopped him. "Free and equal! They cannot just come to you, grab you and march away to rape you! Because you are free and you have a right to say: 'no thanks, go away and court another'. You have a right to disagree. And should they do anything that makes you uncomfortable, tell them so and they will back off. Besides, understand this, please: there is really nothing appealing in rape. Both of them would never think of forcing you that way. Because such an act is awful and holds no attraction to anybody who is sane."

Legolas sat in the pool with his head low, but the protective wrap of his arms loosened again.

"Alright," he nodded hesitantly. "But what can they do?"

"Oh," Arwen smiled. "Seek your company, take long walks with you, compliment you, offer little gifts or sweets or do things that would make you smile, show you their artwork like poems or songs or paintings or books, discuss with you what you have read, listened to or saw, laugh and joke, dance, well… invite you to eat together under the stars, or even steal kisses…"

The twins and Verién were looking at Arwen with a mix of disbelief and amusement on their faces. They all knew that Arwen would be most experienced in the matter, but they never supposed she can treat Legolas as her fellow blushing maiden.

"Our sister," Elrohir nodded proudly, patting her arm and showing her off. Legolas finally burst into laughter, and the rest followed.

"Anyway, you don't have to be afraid." Elrohir said. "They may not give you flowers, but they will surely do something to please you and make you like them, not the other way round."

"I understand now," Legolas said after a little while of silence. "It's alright."

"Tell me," Verién asked cautiously, "well, you… do you prefer men or women, Legolas?"

The twins and Arwen strained their ears to listen.

"Well, I…" Legolas obviously fidgeted. "Before, I mean… I have always thought I like men more. But I haven't been with anyone, so I don't know. And then… _that_ happened, and I'm not so sure anymore."

"You don't have to be with anyone to check it, you simply know such things," Arwen said gently. "It's very common for males to like males. It's perfectly alright. And… what's your type?"

"Type?"

"Yeah. What would you like in your companion," Verién explained.

"You mean… from his looks?" his friends nodded. "Erm, maybe… oh but I really haven't thought about that…"

"You must have had." Elrohir smirked.

Legolas swallowed nervously. "Um… he could be… tall," he showed with his hand a point a bit above his head. "So that when he would… hug me…" he blushed crimson red, "I could lean in."

The girls nodded enthusiastically.

"It gives the feeling of safety." Arwen said.

"So it means that the short ones are counted out from the start?" Elladan inquired.

"Not really," Verién said, "but it's nice if the man is taller. Alright, what else, Legolas?"

"The… oh, I don't really know, it doesn't matter… if he was good to me would count," he squirmed. "Not to beat me, not to… just to be with me, help from time to time. Doesn't matter how he looks like."

"Is there someone in the household you find attractive?" Elladan silently asked. Elrohir and Arwen took sharp intakes of breath, but did not let their slight anxiety show.

"I don't know," the Elf replied, "I haven't been looking."

"What about Glorfindel? He is a dream," Verién said casually, but Legolas shook his head. "Why not?"

"He is so strong, so far above me," Legolas muttered.

"Lindir, Aegnor?"

Again a no. Legolas did find Lindir attractive, but he was distrustful. And his mind was already working on it's own, giving him totally unrealistic pictures of this certain attractive someone. Under his eyelids he saw exactly who was his ideal, a person he admired and felt strangely drawn to, somebody he wasn't afraid of, and even trusted. That's only natural I admire him, the Elf was thinking. After all, he is perfect. And this is even my duty to worship…

"Elrond?"

Legolas shot Arwen a look which was as much terrified as it was truthful. "No, of course not, how could I even think about Master like that!"

"Hey, give him a break," Elrohir suddenly spoke. "You interrogate like Gwaithtir does when patrolling the border. There is truth in that biddies are always only gossiping."

"We're merely curious" Arwen defended them. "And we're not going to spread any tales."

Elladan produced a splash of water onto his sister's face and soon the twins and Verién were involved in a water fight, but Legolas stayed behind. He was thinking about his Master and what he had just heard. He was beautiful. He had a unique aura. He was being considered attractive. He would be wooed and courted soon.

But he didn't want to be courted nor wooed, he didn't need that. All he really wanted was to stay in his Master's rooms and serve him with whatever he needed, and try to read more books from his huge library during his free time. He wanted to be close to only one Elf. And even if it meant he's not going to be given any gifts nor tokens, and nobody will try to steal kisses from him, that was more important, for that was safe, known, stable; the feeling of warmth and protection was overwhelming near his Master, and the kind gestures of the Lord were more than any possible caresses from other Elves. Simple, paternal stroke of his head gave Legolas all attention he needed. He craved affection, that was true, but he could not really accept it from anybody other than Elrond.

And maybe my friends, he thought with a smile. The twins were currently trying to keep Verién underwater, but weren't succeeding at all.

"May I ask you something?" Legolas spoke suddenly, worrying his lower lip.

"Sure, go ahead," Elrohir nodded happily, ignoring his cousin who jumped on his back and tried to bite off his ear.

"Approximately… when will these scars fade?" Legolas indicated his chest. The Elves sobered immediately and came closer with friendly worry on their faces. Verién let go of the twin's ear and fell off his back with a small squeak.

"Difficult to say… may I see your back?" Elrohir inquired gently. Legolas hesitated a second, but he nodded finally and turned his back to the twins, holding to the wooden rim of the pool. Elladan and Elrohir moved closer. Legolas felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched involuntarily, but quickly regained his composure and allowed to be touched.

The slender fingers traced the long scars spreading across his shoulders and back.

"It was a heavy whip," Elladan said quietly, "a single scourge made of leather, am I right?" Legolas nodded. He remembered all about the first whipping he received and the object of his torment.

"The scarring is deep in few places, where the skin had been broken, it seems. Well, here and also here the scars are big and they may take several years to disappear completely. Like, five, six years? That may be," the twin kept explaining softly, palpating the areas he was speaking about. "But the rest is not that bad, really. Your back will be flawless again."

"And what was this?" Elrohir asked, indicating the hideous burn of Legolas' side.

"A torch." The Elf said through the clenched teeth. He saw Verién creeping closer and holding his hand comfortingly, which he accepted gratefully.

"You couldn't do anything…?" Arwen asked sadly from behind.

"No," Legolas muttered, "I was tied down to a table of sorts."

Elrohir delicately ran his fingers through the white-ish, irregular patches of skin. "This is pretty bad. I'm afraid this may… stay."

"Permanently?" Legolas' eyes were sad and so Elrohir bit his lower lip, thinking of an answer that would not sound as a lost case.

"It really depends," Elladan came with help. "I know an Elf who had a few smaller burns and they faded, the skin regenerated. Then on some others such kind of wound leaves a lasting mark. It depends of the personal abilities, I think."

Legolas nodded and turned around. His chest was also scarred, much less, just in few places – nevertheless Legolas wanted to know.

"This will heal in no time, really," Verién reassured him and so he dared a little sigh of relief, but still looked concerned.

"Oh just look at me," he said finally. "I'm abhorrent. The Lords said what they said only because all this is covered up with clothes. I… I have no intention of showing them anything of my body, that's for sure, but I just… know… that if they knew… they wouldn't look at me. I mean… maybe one day there will be someone who would be… dear to me that way. And he would see all this. I would loose him then. It is… like a brand. Like the mark you put on cattle. In Mirkwood they weren't doing this, true, but some of the slaves brought in by the traders… they had such brands upon themselves. Burnt into their shoulders or forearms."

The Elves kept silent tactfully, noting that this was one of the very few times when Legolas opened and gave something out of himself on his own free will. It was a rare situation, but had been occurring lately. These little glimpses into the pain Legolas still bore were as much good for him, as they were emotionally devastating. But his friends were patient.

"They didn't brand me, but they left all this… for a mark, for an easily read information: a slave, a whore. You can use it if you want. I feel awful, tainted, damaged, like I was never to be me again. I can easily accept scars left by the earlier punishments, I may have earned them, a slave must take them for granted, I… I had earned them… but that in the dungeons I didn't… earn… And if what you say is true…" he looked at them fearfully, still unable to get rid of the assumption they may cancel what they had said before and turn out on him for being so impudent to speak thus.

"It _is_ true. We understand how these scars make you feel. But that is over now, Legolas. The nightmare is over. It is all behind you. And the scars will fade eventually." Elrohir whispered.

"Even with them," Elladan muttered on his right, lifting a hand and trailing the shape of the scar on Legolas' arm, "it is not the physical beauty that is most important. There will be someone to show you love and he will rather look inside than on the outside of you, noticing the beauty of your spirit."

"But I'm damaged goods in the outside and in the inside, I'm a wreck. I don't think like you do, I don't understand things in your terms, I will always have a mentality of a slave." The blonde uttered in a somehow choked voice.

"Not always. We're working on it." Verién smiled tentatively.

Legolas was silent for a moment.

"Why… my body hasn't attempted yet on erasing these scars? Because they are exactly the same as they were, even the small ones. Well visible and irregular."

The twins and Verién glanced towards their silent sister. Arwen sighed and hesitated with the answer; slowly she came closer and put her hand on her chest.

"Look at my hand for a while, Legolas. On the white backcloth you can see it glows."

Legolas kept looking for a few minutes.

"Yes, it does," he said with a slight surprise in his voice and turned his wide eyes on her.

"Every Elf glows. It is a sign that the immortal blood is flowing in his veins, that he has certain advantages that are derived from his race, from his heritage. It is a sign that the Elf is healthy, fit, developed in mind and body, intact and… well, Elvish. The problem is, you do not glow, Legolas."

"You do feel cold," Verién added.

"Ada said that he had had to use stronger medicaments to heal you, for your system had not really been reacting as it should, hadn't been doing work on its own with little outside help. You had been healing like a human would."

"And, as we have just observed, you have some other human features, though you are unmistakably Elven," Arwen ended the thought. "If you do not glow and feel the cold, it means that your fëa is still wounded and raw. You have made a wonderful physical recovery, you're on your way to become a skilled Imladris warrior, but your soul is still hurting. And it's not a thing one can change in a fortnight. Time must do its work."

"When you get used to that you're warm and safe, when you truly believe you have friends who will not let you down, when you regain self-respect and certainty that you are indeed a worthy person, this will all slowly go back to normal. You will start glowing and you'll stop feeling the cold with time, we suppose. When you are whole and happy again." Verién said affectionately, lifting a hand to Legolas' hair.

"It may take you years, decades even to get rid of that memories, pain and fear, it may be a long, difficult process. But even if it takes you millennia, we're with you. We'll be patiently explaining and assuring, we'll be repeating all over again, until you finally believe it. You must remember, you have a right to need attention and help. Allow yourself to need it." Elladan said quietly.

Legolas nodded very, very slowly, staring at his palms.

"I… never knew, never understood… now I do, at least I think I do. Thank you for explaining it to me."

"You can ask uncle Elrond about that," Verién suggested, coming to embrace her friend and finding him thankfully leaning to her. "He would surely explain better."

"Yes… Master Elrond" Legolas murmured, keeping his sad eyes down. "My Master."

Legolas was fond of repeating these words, when he was down or alone or falling asleep in darkness. It has became his magical formula, chasing away all the bad. His friends were indeed worried that he still refuses to call Elrond by his name or entitling him 'my Lord'. It was always 'my Master'. It was obvious that Legolas was in a strange kind of love with his protector, admiring him, worshipping him, being thankful beyond any rational limits. And even though it was worrying them and even scaring them, the twins knew how much strength Legolas gets from his musings and these silent words, and so they stopped nagging him about that, allowing him to worship their father silently.

The Elf surrendered to the caring embrace and seemed a bit calmer now, but he refused to participate in more talking or any plays in the pool, being silent and strangely withdrawn. He mused silently, tracing the edges of an irregular scar on his forearm, repeating his mantra again and again in a voiceless whisper.

/*/

Elrond rose from his desk with a tired sigh, abandoning all the paperwork and important reports delivered a few hours ago. He had been working alone for a much too long period of time, for his neck felt stiffen and his hand was already tired of writing. Pouring himself a cup of cold herbal tea, Elrond let his sight wander to the window direction and stare into the distance, both to let his eyes rest and his mind ease the flow of thoughts.

Reports of securing the fields and plants for winter, the outgoings for the end of the month and the list of newly-borns to be registered as Imladris citizens was too fervid to think about. Letters from petitioners or merchants didn't present themselves much better too. The pale, a bit greyish light surrounding his beloved valley seemed to be preparing to leave soon, as the Fall had arrived with all her wet splendour. The clouds above were heavy with the upcoming rain and the air was cold and refreshing with billiards of the tiniest water droplets hovering above the grass, treetops and stones.

What would put my mind at ease now…? Elrond wondered, propping himself against the wall. A pleasant topic to think about, one that would offer some distraction from the work…

And as he was watching the far away mountain slope, the Elf recalled how his sons, Verién and Legolas were returning home from the last escapade into the woods a fortnight ago. Even if the world surrounding them had already been weary and slowly falling to sleep in the anticipation of winter, this four was merry and giddy, stepping to the valley with a song and with laughter. The last beacon of summer joy, embodied into these youngsters, was seen glimmering for a short while longer and then settling for staying indoors rather than getting wet on the rain.

When they returned, Elrond was faced with yet another medical mystery concerning Legolas. The Elf was literally exhausted, cold and sleepy, sniffing often and ineffectively trying to hide his running nose. In the evening he developed a mild fever. Nobody around could believe it, but the truth was there: he has caught a cold in the woods. It alarmed Elrond seriously, and so the Lord fussed about Legolas, put him into the healing room again and took great pains to keep him warm and asleep for the most of the next day, feeding him with a liquid mixture of honey, lemon and ginger. Legolas has fought the illness in no time, but the fact that he could fall ill proved Elrond's thesis all too well. Grief of his soul was still too big to let the Elf function normally and prevented him from becoming a carefree, glowing child of Ilúvatar for a yet long time to come.

Legolas wanted Elrond to know what he had told his friends, he truly wanted him to know the whole story. Yet he couldn't force himself into retelling it. Verién did it for him when he was sound asleep in the small chamber attached to his Master's rooms. That night Elrond spent on keeping constant watch over the blond elfling. He was a healer, he could imagine all the pain and fear Legolas underwent, and it was enough to chase away any sleep. Instead he stared at the lithe body, this fragile, living organism on the bed, resting so peacefully. He observed each steady rise and fall of Legolas' chest, each involuntary, slack movement of his limbs, as he lasted there, possessed by some kind of a pleasant dream. That was it. Finally safe. Finally free. Finally taken care of. Elrond was too overrun with feelings of protectiveness and the detached but painful guilt to leave his little leaf's side.

Something has to be done about Mirkwood, Elrond thought suddenly and it was not a calm revelation, for it awoke the stinging worry in his heart again. This musings were ripping apart the beautiful image of the sleeping woodelf and replacing it with visions of Mirkwood clammy dungeons.

Elrond remembered all too well the bitter talk he had with Legolas about it.

/*/

"I long ago wanted to influence Lathronios to change many things in his kingdom, especially the famine, lack in medical store, administration or the issue of the courts of law. I told him that slavery is something no ruler should establish. Among with other Elven rulers, Galadriel and Celeborn of Lothorien, and with Círdan of Mithlond we called for councils, wrote him letters, wanted to force him by all the political means we had. Still, it was useless. Any try would outrage him and earn an offended note that meant clearly he has no wish to be interfered. He is a King, he cannot be easily manipulated or threatened. And we have no right to mess with his internal politics, for it may cause an armed conflict." Elrond was explaining mildly, slowly walking with Legolas along the heavy-laden bookshelves.

"Lathronios is a stubborn and fierce King who had been ruling with an iron hand for ages. He 'knows what is best for his country', he always reminds us. He says he doesn't have the luxury of freeing all the slaves. This is curious, for he established slavery himself: out of his political enemies and their families, the poorest, the prisoners and humans abiding in his country at the time. He needed cheap labour force and he achieved it that way, getting rid of his enemies in the process. But this sick ideology he clearly added to this… this worries us. But still, even though a bad ruler, he is a far better King than any murderer or a traitor."

"Murderer or traitor?" Legolas inquired silently.

"I'm referring here to the events from the past, Legolas. Were you taught… were you allowed to know the full version of the history of Mirkwood, little one?" Elrond rephrased the question, reaching for a tome on anti-hemorrhagic herbs.

"We were not speaking often about any of the previous Mirkwood rulers. It was not our place." Legolas answered.

A sad sigh from his Lord seemed to thin down the air between them.

"Exactly… now, after what I have seen, I begin thinking that the real problem of Mirkwood is a heart-sick, evil-natured and very obstinate ruler. May the Valar have mercy upon him for his doings no matter his reasons." Elrond shot Legolas a glance. "Do not think, though, that I had been helping his scheme through all those years willingly and without remorse. I couldn't refuse him help, because it is not him who will suffer, but his people. Constant loans and provisions from the neighbouring kingdoms is not really a way out, Mirkwood's economy is almost dead, the agriculture too neglected and undeveloped to produce enough food for all people. Practically only the small services and craftsmanship prospers around the main city. Now, if I refuse to supply Lathronios with food and medicines, people will starve. The slaves in the first place." Elrond couldn't help himself and put his warm, large hand on Legolas' nape. "Mirkwood is in huge trouble. The problem is still open, what to do to help your friends," he mused.

"I was told there is nothing what can be done without arousing a war," Legolas said silently, his mood dampened. "And I understand. I have never seen war, but it must be even worse than life in captivity, so it's better to leave all things as they are."

Elrond glanced at him quickly.

"I am deeply sorry and concerned about the fate which touched you and many other Elves in Mirkwood. I truly want to do something about it. I tried. We tried. But we do not want to cause additional suffering to innocents. That's a paradox, but we are trapped in restrictions of the law we have created ourselves," he said. "Lathronios is not a first King of Mirkwood after Oropher. He had a brother Thranduil, but that one was accused of unthinkable crime of murder and thus exiled from all Elven communities. A King that is a criminal? That's not moral. A King that is a kin-slayer? That's unthinkable. Arwen told you the history of the Silmarils, did she not? So you see. According to the law, Lathronios claimed the throne and is a rightful King. He is not a good King, far from that. But he cannot be hampered in whatever he is doing. Do you understand?"

Legolas nodded meekly, staring at the leather-bound tomes, palpating the closest cover with his elegant forefinger and tracing the shape of golden letters printed on it. Elrond exhaled a long breath and chose two more volumes.

"I don't want to give you any false hope, little leaf, but I think you have a right to know about everything. There is an issue concerning Thranduil that… may create… a possibility of change. But this is so unrealistic a hope that it may be as well treated as a conspiracy theory."

"What issue, Master?" Legolas asked, shyly rising his eyes at his Master. He had never heard the full story before as it was dangerous to speak about it in Mirkwood. He craved to know the truth, and more, since it was his Lord – his Master – who was sharing this with him. It only made Legolas worship his owner more.

"The circumstances of accusing Lathronios' brother were a bit… touted as for me. The trial never happened, for Thranduil ran away and got lost. The investigation in this case was led only by Mirkwood royals, and the official statement was made after the coronation of the new King. If one thinks of it, he may give… an assumption… that it was all arranged for Lathronios to claim the power."

Legolas' eyes were wide and disbelieving, but he was listening unmoving to each and every word.

"Maybe with the lost brother we could find out what really happened. Find out his version of the story. Give him a chance to defend himself, at least, and act accordingly by choosing a side. But… these are only musings that had come to us from Mirkwood, nobody has a proof. On top of all that, the lost brother may be simply dead by now. Or, even if he is alive and found, guilty."

Elrond shook his head a bit helplessly.

"Without him we can do or find out nothing, anyway. There had been a few expeditions aiming on finding Thranduil, but he has hid very skilfully or he is not in this world anymore. As an exile he has no right to even approach the realms of Elves, so he can possibly abide anywhere. Neither ours nor Mirkwood troops had managed to find him, and so we stopped trying."

Legolas nodded with some effort and not immediately.

"But you were trying, all the Lords. You were interested about it, you tried." He muttered finally. "It… it's a lot. Thank you, Master; for the explaining as well."

Elrond moved closer and rested his hands on the fair creature's arms. Legolas' back pressed delicately to the bookshelf behind him and the thin Elf rested his weight on the solid wood, keeping his eyes firmly trained on his shoes.

Silence occurred; it was a comfortable one, though. Master was so close. His scent, scent of safety and care, hung around Legolas like a curtain, shielding from all the hurt of the world that was _out there_ – outside this clean, regular library filled with friendly tomes of soft paper and the presence of his Master. At a subtle encouragement Legolas raised his eyes at his Master's face and found only concern in the grey orbs. The Lord sighed again. He felt like he hadn't done his best in the whole complicated case, but he remembered Glorfindel's words well: 'You do what you can to help those you can'.

"Legolas, I wanted to tell you…" Elrond finally broke the silence and shifted uncertainly, unwilling to close the space between them too much, yet still afraid to drive the youth away by lordly reserve. "I wanted to tell you that you were very brave. That ordeal was too much to endure, and you… survived it. I… I am proud of you."

Legolas did not know what he should say. He looked in his Master's eyes and was so thankful, so happy he heard something like that. But he was only able to stammer through his clenched throat:

"Verién has told you, Master… right?"

"Yes, she has," Elrond said and released his hold, opening his arms instead. He did not embrace Legolas by himself, giving him time and possibility of refusing, but almost immediately Elrond felt the warm body pressing to his own and the fair head resting on his shoulder. Legolas stayed close to Elrond, wondering how much he missed his Lord, even if he was gone to the mountains only for so short a time. He missed that calming touch, that knowing hand stroking his hair in the well-known pattern, from the top of his head through the base of the neck to his back and again.

"You were told many things." Elrond said thoughtfully, pulling Legolas into closer embrace. "What they have done to you was so wrong."

Legolas recalled again the talk with the twins and Verién. _There are no worse and better people. Lathronios is wicked. What they have done to you was wrong_. He still could not believe it so simply. He chose to not think about it and bury his face in Elrond's robe instead.

"I may repeat it hundred times more, and I think you will not believe me still," Elrond whispered to the Elf's ear, stroking him. "But I will repeat. You are not a slave any more. No harm will come to you while you are in Imladris, Legolas." Suddenly Elrond detected a quick change of emotions in the fair creature he was holding.

"Master…" Legolas pulled away from Elrond to look him in the eye. "I will… always be your slave. Not because you forced me to be one, Master," he added quickly at Elrond's expression, "but because I want to always serve you, to thank you for your unbelievable kindness and that you have taken care of me, when I needed it. You are my saviour, Master… you have never ordered to punish me, although I may have deserved it."

"You deserve all possible care and as much help as you can get to the end of your days, not a punishment," Elrond said fervently. "You have never done anything that would anger someone."

"I hope so, Master," Legolas answered and subconsciously returned to his previous position, resting his head on Elrond's shoulder. The Elf Lord hugged him closer.

"This trip has done you some good," Elrond whispered silently.

Legolas smiled coyly. "It's because of my friends, Master… They showed me so much, explained so much, they… like me the way I am… and suddenly I find I dare to speak to you, Master, that I can find the courage to… hug you, Master." Legolas answered, feeling strangely secure in the warmth of Elrond's embrace.

"Oh, but actually it is me who is hugging you, Legolas," Elrond chuckled.

Legolas was silent for a moment.

"Hug me often…" he mouthed soundlessly into the heavily embroidered, burgundy velvet covering his Lord's chest.

But Elrond heard. Or rather felt in some way.

Behind the closed door, at the main entrance to the common library Glorfindel shooed away a pair of young Elven students demanding entrance and access to the precious library resources.

/*/

Rarely, but still quite regularly, Legolas allowed his friends to convince him to participate in the banquets or dinners held in the Hall of Fire. Usually he attended them anyway, but in the role of a servant – carrying trays of food or drink, changing the plates, refilling the crystal with finest wine or cleaning up later. He liked it that way; he felt at ease when he had a purpose to be in the hall. Nobody would question him, nobody would address him in matters different than his obligations. He could listen to the scraps of conversations if he wanted, or observe the pairs dancing on the terrace in the warm summer nights.

But this time the fair Elf was practically dragged out of the kitchens to his rooms, ordered to change and led to the dinner by his friends. They sat him between themselves, engaged into a talk, purposely heaped his plate full with delicious dishes from all around the table and even announced him as one of the singers for the later part of the evening. Legolas was uneasy, totally embarrassed and nervous beyond measure, nibbling on the hem of the grey and burgundy velvet tunic he was clad in, eating very little and ignoring the wine completely. He never liked to be in the centre of attention, he never liked to stand out in any crowd. And he felt totally out of place in the hall, full with Imladris royals, politicians or Elven merchants passing through the mountains. He simply refused to notice that the rightful citizens, the ones with whom he worked in the palace every day, were there too and were having well-deserved fun.

He sang a few lays in the end, ate what he was forced to and even indulged in some sweet wine from Verién's cup. His friends wanted him to step out of his shell, it was obvious and he couldn't blame them; the fact that it was a sheer torture for him was, somehow, beside the point.

But a little part of him was happy that he had attended the dinner. Just a normal, bigger evening meal, not meant as a feast, only a welcoming tradition for all the citizens and newcomers, and one evening off he could afford to spend with his friends. Legolas had a different idea of fun, true. But still: his Master's fond, warm smile and approving eyes when he saw him socializing were precious. His Master clapping his hands in regard when he had sung a song was such a pleasant sight. A tiny talk they shared at some point, and a brief pat of his Master's wide hand were more important than Legolas could possibly express. Good things happened, after all, and the fair Elf was tired, but content. He said goodnight to the twins and Verién when it was already after midnight and calmly made his way to his room, where the soft bed waited, and he was relishing absentmindedly the thoughts concerning mainly his Lord and protector.

"Legolas!" somebody spoke suddenly and the Elf whipped around.

It was Lindir.

"Legolas, wait," the Elf said and caught up with the blonde. "You're retiring so soon?"

Legolas dropped his head. "Yes, my Lord," he spoke, "I am just tired and I need to get up early tomorrow. There will be lots of cleaning up at dawn…"

"I always thought that you're not made for that kind of a job. You should use your talent and your voice, not spend time cleaning dishes." Lindir muttered good-heartedly and took Legolas' elbow. "Wouldn't you like a walk through the gallery?"

"My Lord… please… I really need to… please…"

"Please what?" Lindir laughed. " 'Please don't be angry', 'please withdraw your offer'…? Or maybe 'please do take me for a walk, I really need to be in your presence now'? Which of the three?" the Lord smiled beckoningly and his hand moved higher, onto Legolas' arm. The Elf stiffened though and his heels dug into the ground. He refused to answer and escaped with his eyes.

Lindir let go off his arm.

"All right, I didn't mean to upset you." He said with a sigh. "It was just a joke. I really would appreciate your company, even if only for a little while, but if you are not in the mood, maybe I may just… see you to your room?"

Legolas nodded nervously, still tense like a bowstring. When they started to walk, he moved his legs stiffly, automatically.

"You are skittish," Lindir started, "but I hope it's not fear, is it? You don't need to be afraid," he assured without waiting for an answer. "I think you have a very beautiful voice. This voice has possibilities, you could learn a lot and become the greatest minstrel of Elrond's court."

"T-thank you, my Lord," Legolas stammered, assuming it was a praise.

"Don't call me that… I am Lindir. You can use my name."

"Y-yes, my Lord."

Lindir glanced carefully at the small, stiff figure walking beside him with his eyes held wide open and tightly pursed lips. He seemed so terrified and so intimidated that Lindir's heart went out to him. He did not really know how to put him at ease, though.

"Did you enjoy the party?" he asked, obviously searching for a topic.

"A little," came the answer.

"A little?" Lindir encouraged, trying to catch Legolas' eyes.

The blonde nodded. "It was very nice, generally… some time with my friends."

"I would be glad if I were you, everybody were impressed by your lays."

"I… don't like singing… in public." Legolas said. Lindir raised his brow at that.

"Why? You sing so beautifully." They slowly walked up the stairs, and Lindir delicately touched Legolas' elbow again, as if guiding him. The thin arm was immediately pressed to the side.

"I just don't," Legolas confessed, "with people listening… and looking at me."

"You are very beautiful to look at." Lindir said simply. When Legolas gave him an incredulous look, he smiled warmly, and this turned out to be such a shock to the Elf that he stumbled and would fell down the stone stairs if not Lindir's strong arms which held him up safely.

"Careful, careful…" the Elf whispered and this time refused to let go.

They stood in front of each other for a long while, both scared to move; Legolas out of fear, Lindir out of sheer determination not to drive the other away. Silence stretched and time slowed down, if not stopped at all; the moment lasted – just _lasted_, uninterrupted by any movement or sound – and only the look Lindir was extending was becoming more and more obvious, tinted with longing.

Very slowly and in deafening silence he closed the distance between them. He felt the shy warmth of Legolas delicately advancing towards him through the folds of his clothes and though the Elf was like paralyzed, Lindir kept him pinned with his eyes, pulling him closer and closer, inch by inch by the hold on both his forearms.

After what seemed like eternity later their noses were close enough to touch and Lindir delicately ducked his head left to avoid the collision. His lips moved on their own accord and softly touched the corner of Legolas' mouth, delivering the tiniest pressure they could muster, unaggressively, undemandingly. Just an invitation. Legolas swayed on his feet; finally Lindir could not withhold any longer and fully kissed the beauty before him, taking advantage of the involuntary gasp and tasting sweetness on his tongue – sweetness that was Legolas.

But after a little while something made him break the kiss and ripped him off his bliss. He withdrew to behold the watery, shocked eyes and the shaking form of the Elf and felt cold dread overwhelm him.

"You are trembling," he stated the obvious. "Legolas, why…? What's wrong…? Please, calm down, it's alright… Legolas…"

Two huge teardrops fell down the pale cheeks and left two wet trails on the skin's surface. Lindir let go of the Elf immediately.

"Legolas, speak to me," he asked in panic, "I didn't want to make you cry… It's just… oh Valar, please tell me why are you crying? Alright, I will not touch you, look, I'm gonna hold my hands so that you can see them… speak to me," he pleaded.

"Don't… I'm so sorry, my Lord, so sorry, I just… I am scared of you," he articulated stiffly, letting more tears spill down, but recalling what Verién and Arwen had said. He had a right to refuse. He shook his head a little to clear his thoughts and continued, reckless as it was. "And I don't want you to… hurt me."

"Hurt you? Ai Legolas, it was just a kiss! I like you, I really do, I just wanted to show you that you are beautiful and liked… I didn't want to do any… oh…" Lindir gasped suddenly and his eyes went wide with terrified understanding. "You are… a former slave… you were hurt… that way."

Legolas suddenly felt something break inside him. He felt awful, tainted, as if he was something very dirty and disgusting, something to be avoided. He turned away from Lindir and desperately trying to hold the tears back, he climbed up the stairs. But the stubborn Elf followed.

"No, Legolas, wait… I didn't know! I didn't know, I am so sorry," he said, stopping Legolas in his tracks. "It must have looked as if I jumped you. I am so truly sorry. I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?"

Legolas lowered his head. He couldn't stammer a word, so he just nodded – but not immediately.

"I am so sorry for you. Poor thing…" Lindir whispered. "That's why you are so edgy… You know, I noticed you so much sooner, I just knew you need time to accommodate in Imladris and you need to adapt. I waited. I wanted to give you the time you needed. I just thought… you have come around already. But it's all right. You need peace and care, and your friends. It's not yet the time. I was too impatient. My fault. I'm sorry."

Legolas glanced at him, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand. A suspicious look rested on the musician and held his eyes for a while.

"And you… won't do anything?" Legolas asked finally. Lindir quickly shook his head.

"No, of course not. I wouldn't hurt you. I will just walk with you to your room and go back to mine." He smiled. "How does that sound?"

Legolas nodded his agreement and they started walking again. The two corridors, one bigger and one more narrow, leading to Elrond's chambers and Verién's loft, were crossed in silence, but this time a bit more comfortable one.

"I really think you are beautiful," Lindir muttered when they reached the correct door. "And it wasn't designed to scare you… it was meant as an invitation. I would want to know you better. But it's understandable if you're not ready." He smiled and tentatively touched Legolas' palm, asking for permission. When he received it, he squeezed the smaller hand gently in reassurance and let go. "Smile for me?"

Legolas tried to comply, but rather failed.

"Goodnight, Legolas."

"Goodnight… Lindir." The blonde said slowly.

Lindir nodded and turned to leave, but stopped for the last time. "You know," he said quirking an eyebrow, "if you decide that you feel better and more ready… I will be still waiting. For… some time. At least." It sounded awkward, but suddenly made Legolas smile a bit wider. And the fear shifted, to gently evaporate into the darkness of the corridor.

"I will remember." He said. And that was the truth.

Lindir smiled.

"Do so. Well, goodnight; rest well, little woodelf."


	2. The birthday, the horse, the dancing

TRYING TO PUSH THE PAST AWAY

BOOK TWO

DISCLAIMER: I do not own „Lord Of The Rings". Whole recognizable belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Written only for fun, no money made.

WARNINGS: None for this chapter.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Haha! I am officially past any exams I had to resit and I serve you with still warm chapter no.2. I hope you'll like it, for it has a merry, funny content, as you deserve something nice before another disaster comes. I wanted to thank you so much for your kind words and all the interest I received. You are all great.

And please more! ^^

Chapter 2 : THE BIRTHDAY, THE HORSE, THE DANCING

/*/

It was a pale glowing afternoon when the four friends and Neremiel were sitting on Verién's loft. The twins were lying on the bed, exhausted and unresponsive after a full day of politics, which bored and exhausted them, while Legolas was trying to make a trap door from the boards which were still left. He was holding some nails between his teeth and was briskly joining the broads. Neremiel and Verién were bustling around the place and decorating the window with long lace curtains. The room was slowly getting a beautiful look: it was a pleasure to hang around there.

"You are a real handyman, Legolas," Neremiel praised him, passing by. He smiled and started work on the hinges and the lock.

"I have a question, Legolas." Verién jumped off the window sill and smoothed the curtains. "When is your begetting day anyway?"

Legolas froze and glanced at her. Finally he sighed and smiled, returning to the door.

"I don't know," he said simply. "I have never celebrated my birthday."

"A high time to start," Elladan said, sitting up on the bed. "We only have to find you a proper date, if you don't know it."

"Exactly," Elrohir sat too. "When you would wish to be born?"

"Are you serious?" Legolas asked, totally surprised. A nod from all of them including the girls convinced him that they weren't joking. "First tell me when are your begetting days," he asked.

Verién approached the wall between painted Elladan and Neremiel's swan. She took a brush and dipped it in the black paint, which was still standing near the wall.

"Mine is at the eleventh day of Summer. (1) Elrohir?"

"The thirty seventh day of Fading, eight thirty at the morning," he said. "And you, brother?" he asked ironically.

"Eight forty," he giggled. "You are older than me."

"Neremiel?" Verién wrote the date down and glanced behind her shoulder.

"The twenty eighth of Spring," she smiled. "Now your turn. I suppose you have no wish to have birthday in Winter," she turned to Legolas and his brow furrowed.

"No, I would rather not…" he supported his chin on his hands. "The snow is too cold. But I like the rain… I would prefer to be born in Fading."

"It is Fading ," winked Verién. "And today we have…?"

"The eighteenth," the twins said. In unison.

"So I'm writing the nineteenth day of Fading. Agree?" Verién dipped the brush once again.

"T-tomorrow?" Legolas dropped the trap door and it shut closed.

"And why not? We will celebrate and tell you best wishes. The begetting day is a very pleasant day." She said. "There is also the tradition of giving small presents to a person who is celebrating birthday."

"Look, friends," Legolas said slowly. "I really don't want to bother you with this. You are my friends, that's all I need. Presents are something I…"

"…am not used to," Elrohir ended.

"But that's not the point, please…" he tried to convince them.

"To be honest, I don't like being given presents too," Verién said, putting the paint aside. "Sometimes I cannot repay someone with the same generosity he or she bestowed upon me. But in your case it will be your first birthday ever, so I suppose you should simply let us give you something." She sat near him and embraced her legs by her hands.

"You know what? I recalled something," Neremiel said. "Tomorrow the dancing will be held in the inn in the village, as every _Orbelain_ . You could go there and show Legolas something more than only Imladris," she said. "And it would be a great way to celebrate!"

Legolas went red. He felt more and more embarrassed by the whole situation. He was not used to so much attention and kindness and it made him feel uneasy.

"Ooh… how long it is since I've danced in the village…" sighed Verién. "Splendid idea. The first birthday and the first real party for you."

"And there will be beautiful girls, sweet wine and loud music," Elrohir said. His eyes were sparkling and Legolas already knew that he would be forced to go with them; if Elrohir's or Elladan's eyes were sparkling like this, there was no chance to deny them.

"Do you want to go?" Verién asked Legolas. He hung his head, curling the nail between his fingers. He wanted to tell them he really doesn't. He felt trapped in the crowd. He could not dance and was deeply afraid of alcohol. And drunk people. But he knew it would sound like whining, so he kept silent and nodded, gluing a smile to his lips. Unluckily for him, no one fell for it.

"You do not," Verién stated the obvious. "Why?"

"I… just… don't," he whispered, afraid of their reaction, but they seemed only disappointed.

"Why? There is nothing to be afraid of. You spend too much time indoors, confined by walls and the city. You keep to your room if we don't drag you outside. Tell me, have you ever been to the market alone…? Ah, don't say anything, from your expression I see you haven't. Legolas, we need to introduce you into a normality of sorts. Allow us to help."

"Verién, I will try… just… not so soon…"

"What are you afraid of?" Elrohir bridled up. "You will be with us all the time."

Yesterday evening I was alone, Legolas' first thought was, but he dismissed it. Last evening turned out to be all right, eventually.

"I can't dance, I don't drink, I don't feel good in the crowd. I would only spoil your fun if I went. I don't want to be a burden." Legolas shook his blond head.

"If you won't go, we are staying here, there's no point in having fun without you. You are one of us and should know it by now," Elrohir commented from the bed. Legolas' face shrunk at that and he opened his mouth to protest, but Verién stopped him.

"That's right. Legolas, trust us in that. You will have some fun, see something more than the safe confines of your chamber, experience something new. You will not be alone for a minute. Just relax, you will like it! Trust us. Please." She smiled pleadingly, taking his hand in hers.

"We know you don't like meeting new people and you feel insecure in any kind of new surroundings. But that feeling will lessen and then disappear when you start socializing. You will even come to like it as soon as you feel more comfortable with the thought that nobody is going to hurt you, even if you're surrounded by strangers. It's a next step you simply need to do." Elladan came closer to sit beside the abandoned trap door and looked Legolas in the eye.

"Oh, alright…" the Elf sighed, half-irritated, half-touched by their concern. "But… Lord Elrond will not approve of it."

Elrohir laughed shortly from the bed and jumped up.

"Of course he won't, that's the point! We will sneak out in the night and return at dawn, so that nobody can track us. It will be your first adventure."

"No! Not against Master's will." Legolas shook his head and pursed his lips tight in silent determination.

"He is not your Master," the three said aloud, but Legolas refused to even look at them, taking the hammer again. "Legolas, he would not allow us to go out of genuine concern of our stomachs and heads and because he needs us at court and doesn't believe we would return early enough to attend the council. And even if he allowed, he would send with us guards or something like that. We certainly don't want guards with us. We wouldn't be let into the dancing. And besides, what fun it is when your father knows where you are?" Elladan explained. Legolas raised his eyebrows, completely unconvinced. "He would not be furious and order you a punishment even if he found out. You are free and have a right to decide. We are going without his knowledge, but it's not a crime." Elrohir explained.

"Besides, he will never know," Verién said. "And we are old enough to take care of ourselves. We are taking you with us. You will have some fun." She gave him a cheerful smile. "Uncle needs to know nothing. We will sneak out and return at dawn, when the gates will be opened, and then we will sneak in quietly through the kitchen door."

"So you've done this before." Legolas assumed.

"Of course! We wouldn't take you to a dangerous place." Elladan yawned. "So? Convinced?"

The three puppy-eyed looks made Legolas sigh and nod despite himself. _What am I doing,_ Legolas thought, observing Verién, who jumped up to dance in the middle of the room with her eyes closed, humming a merry melody. _What am I doing. _

"Neremiel? Will you go with us?" Elladan asked politely.

"I cannot," the girl responded proudly.

"Mum will not let you?" he asked.

"No, she maybe would… but I cannot because of another reason." Neremiel blushed slightly.

Verién stopped the dance abruptly and stared at her. "Don't tell me… I'll guess. That hazel eyed sweetie with guitar asked you for a date."

"How did you know?" Neremiel asked, causing everyone to snort.

"I didn't, I just know you, Neremiel" Verién laughed. "Decided! It's gonna be a lovely, lovely night!"

/*/

The next day came and strange things started to happen after midday, leaving Legolas in a state of shock.

Firstly Erestor congratulated him and wished him everything best before he walked away to his own work. Later Lady Arwen handed him a small pack, kissing him on both cheeks and saying her best wishes as well. In the pack there was a quill; a really beautiful quill made of an eagle feather and a bottle of the best ink. Legolas went red and he thanked Elrond's daughter much longer and much more fervently than needed, but Arwen knew what it was about. It was the first birthday gift he had ever got.

Neremiel and Verién kissed Legolas warmly, said huge amount of wishes and handed him the biggest bouquet of flowers he had ever seen. Moreover, they made him a huge birthday cake with candied cherries and chocolate letters on top. Legolas placed the gifts in his room; he wanted to eat the cake with his friends on the loft, and was looking forward to taste it as the smell was fantastic. Later that day, when he had a spare moment, he was looking at the flowers and the cake and smiling. He could not help it.

The twins made him a big surprise. Both of them gave him a knife, but a special one. They were twin blades; really beautiful craftsmanship. One had a blade turned to the left, and Legolas knew it was Elrohir's gift, as he has always been "the left brother". The knife with a right blade was Elladan's present. Legolas took them and almost started to cry from happiness. The twins admitted they had the knives made for him for quite a while, as they wanted to start teaching Legolas to fight.

But the gift from the Elf Lords amazed him the most.

In the afternoon Verién and the twins took him out from the kitchens and Elladan covered his eyes with a sash.

"W-wait, what are you doing…?" Legolas started to struggle at such unpleasant handling.

"Calm down… We are taking you to Adar and Lord Glorfindel, but you cannot see what they have prepared for you," Elrohir said. "Trust us, we will catch you if you stumble."

"Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel… prepared a gift for me…?" Legolas whispered.

"Of course. It is your birthday," Verién smiled, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to have birthdays and receive gifts from friends. Or Elf Lords.

They walked, holding Legolas' elbows to lead him. He stumbled a few times inside the building when walking through the thresholds, but they held him fiercely. Soon Legolas felt a gust of wind on his face and understood that they had entered the pavement. He heard birdsong and slowly he realized where he was, recalling the image of the pavement and its surroundings. They turned left, so they must have walked under Lord Elrond's balcony. Then a few steps straight, to the crossroads. And right. They were going to the stables.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked his friends to check if they would tell him the truth.

"You will see." Elrohir said. "Slowly now, the road gets rocky… that's it. Keep going."

The road seemed to be longer than normally due to the lack of sight. Just when he started to feel uncomfortable with it, he heard Elladan's voice in his ear: "Only a few meters more."

Soon after that the blindfold was removed. He saw that he really was in the stables; Glorfindel was standing on the other side of the big paddock fenced with wooden barriers, talking with Elrond. Legolas' Master stood stiffly in his formal robes, trying to avoid the fountains of dirt that were splattering from under the hooves of the young colt running in big circles inside the paddock. The horse seemed to pay no attention to Elrond's appearance and kept sending new missiles into the air, tossing the thick mane and frisking happily.

It was a young, brownish horse called Aerandir, Legolas knew him well and had often fed him with apples, as the animal had a friendly character and was really likeable. Lord Elrond smiled brightly when he saw Legolas in the stable doors; he called him to his side with a gesture and Legolas obeyed, following the horse with his eyes as if hypnotized.

"Master…?" he asked silently, confused beyond imagination.

"Happy begetting day, dear boy," Elrond smiled and made Glorfindel some space, for the Lord came closer to envelope Legolas in a brief hug.

"We've been wondering what would make you happy, and we came up with an idea of giving you a horse on your own," Glorfindel said, patting his back. "You are learning how to ride, but you need a real mount. You cannot borrow Verién's mare for ever, after all."

"We chose Aerandir; he is gentle and will listen to an inexperienced rider. It will be a great horse one day. You will be proud of him yet." Elrond added, looking at the horse. The animal stopped circling and was now coming their way, probably curious or counting on a dainty.

"A horse," Legolas choked out the obvious after a longer while.

"Yes," Glorfindel raised his eyebrows, totally amused with the disbelief on his face.

"For me?" the Elf asked, still staring at his Master.

"Yes, for you." Elrond laughed. "He is yours. Our best wishes, little leaf."

Legolas' eyes watered immediately, as was to be expected, but what he did next was a little surprise. He closed the distance between him and Elrond in two quick steps and encircled his Master's neck with both arms, clinging to him like a child would.

One could say that Elrond expected it from his peaceful and content expression when he hugged his elfling close.

Legolas spent the whole afternoon with his new charge, combing the horse, petting his nose and talking to him friendly. He could not believe in his luck; and the day was not over yet.

/*/

The quiet hours of early night stretched and the twins and Verién were waiting on the loft until the last sounds of commotion downstairs die down. Finally, an hour before midnight, they sneaked out and crept to Legolas' door. He was ready and waiting for the sign, even if panicking about defying his Master's unwritten order. Something distracted him from opposing again, though; he stopped in his tracks as he beheld Verién. She looked different than usual, wearing a long, red skirt.

"What have you got in your hair?" Legolas asked, finally finding the cause of her unusual appearance. She looked like… a girl.

"Ribbons," she snapped. "They made me wear them." She pointed the twins with her chin, and they giggled demonically. Legolas shook his head and followed his friends down the stairs, to a secret passage behind a tapestry to avoid the guard, through the corridors and then through the opened window in the kitchens.

"This is the 'kitchen door'?" Legolas asked quietly. Elladan looked back and grinned at him.

They moved like shadows, walking near the walls and hiding behind the trees and bushes while passing under Elrond's opened balcony. They ran to the stables, hoping they won't be noticed by any Erestor-like creature, hiding in the darkness; Legolas could feel the first sparks of excitement coming to life in his chest as he ran ahead, flanked with the twins. When they entered the stables, they saddled Roachie and Elrohir's stallion.

Elrohir held the reins and Elladan held his brother's back, while Verién was opening the doors. Legolas mounted Roachie and followed the twins out of the stable; Verién closed the door and ran to them. She jumped on the saddle in front of his friend and in a minute they were gone.

The ride through the green fields in the middle of the night, through the cool air and the slight drizzle was unbelievably refreshing. Legolas loved the wind on his face that made his eyes water and held Verién's waist firmly, when Roachie ran fast and free after so long a stay in the stable. Her hooves were hitting the ground silently until they left Imladris' borders, and she could not go with the full speed as they were moving through the forest, but as soon as they met a plain ground she sensed her lady's excitement and dared to neigh happily, quickening. Verién's fingers entangled in her mane as she urged her faster even more, uncaring of keeping quiet. Legolas glanced at the twins. They were riding side by side with Roachie, their cheeks red from the wind and excitement.

Soon they saw a town. One more ride down the slope and they would enter it. On the outskirts of the town there was a small inn, full of candlelight and sounds, crowded with dancing people. Legolas heard a violin, guitar, flute and drums, creating a merry, quick melody. Somebody was singing, mostly out of tune, but no one seemed to care, because laughter and cheers exploded from the inn when the song ended. The four friends approached the inn and tied the reins to the fence surrounding the porch. Some people were standing there, sipping at their beers and smoking long pipes. One of them, very old man with silvery white hair and the same moustache, supporting on his walking stick, waved a hand to Verién.

"I see, my girl, that you decided to visit Old Tom's inn, right?" he said, his voice jerky and husky, yet friendly.

"Right, dear Grandpa. I missed you," she smiled and kissed the old man in the forehead. He chuckled and patted Verién's bottom, just because he could not reach any higher. Then, slowly walking with his stick, he ushered them into the inn.

"Grandpa…?" Legolas asked, puzzled.

"No, of course not. We all call him Grandpa. He is over eighty, but he still runs the best inn in town," she said, holding the door open for her friends. The room was bright, full of lights. People were dancing in the middle or sitting near the tables placed under the walls, drinking alcohol and eating various dishes. They were singing and rocking back and forth, obviously happy. Near the entrance, on their left a huge counter was situated, behind which stood Old Tom. There were many beer casks full of the barley liquid and a back door to the kitchens. A few girls in green aprons were carrying the trays with huge tankards. In the corner some sailors in striped shirts were sitting, stealing pats and glances on the waitresses and women in brightly colored dresses, walking around the room, giving kisses to those interested. One of them was sitting on a sailor's lap, other dancing with a slightly drunk farmer, who was kneading her left breast. She didn't seem to mind.

"Well, before we dance, let's drink something, shall we?" Elladan guided his friends and his brother through the noisy crowd to the first free table, a little more on the left, near the sailors. A young girl approached them quickly to take their order.

"Four beers," Elrohir said. "Thank you, pretty. Can I ask you for a dance later?"

The girl blushed deeply red and nodded, happy because of the affection from a handsome, unknown Elf. She quickly returned and brought a full tray.

"I will find you later, pretty," Elrohir said, taking her hand and kissing it. "Huge thanks." The girl giggled and ran away, blushing.

Verién and Legolas exchanged looks. Elladan pulled his brother's sleeve.

"What?" Elrohir asked.

"Look at this blond one in the corner," Elladan whispered.

"She is red, dear brother." Elrohir looked at him with pity.

"Not this one, that one near the beer cask. See?"

"Hmmm… beautiful girl…" Elrohir's eyes widened. "Alright, I'll talk to her for you, but we will change later, deal?"

"Deal," Elladan said and they knocked the tankards in agreement. Verién sighed and stared into depths of her own tankard, as if it was hiding the biggest mysteries of Middle Earth.

"Two womanizers," she muttered. She finished her beer surprisingly quickly and started to asses the boys in the tavern. Finally she sighed and started to play with her empty tankard.

"Small choice today," she said.

"It is early yet, more boys will come." Elladan said, observing the door.

"Maybe one of us?" one sailor shouted to her. Verién bent over the table and assessed them.

"Which one said that?" she asked. A young and pretty handsome fellow stood up, ignoring one of the prostitutes sending him longing looks, when his colleagues started cheers and whistles. Unfortunately for him, Verién shook her head.

"Go back to your mother, boy. Maybe I will dance with you when you'll get older… or I'll get drunk," she said.

"In that case I will buy you a drink," he offered.

"Well, that you're welcome." Verién smiled and the sailor disappeared in the crowd to get to the counter.

"Vixen", the twins said. She shrugged and when the sailor came with another beer, she thanked and promised him a dance later. Legolas could not help but chuckle.

"Now your turn. Pick up someone," Elrohir said to Legolas.

"No, I won't. Maybe later." He said and bent his head.

"So dance with me," Verién suggested, drying the second mug today. "Do you want to?" she asked.

"Well… yes?" he muttered and rose, taking her hand in his. Loud whistles came from the sailor's corner, but Verién ignored them totally; they went nearer the band on the other side of the room. Legolas turned her to himself and imitating the dancers he saw in the Hall of Fire stood straight with the fine arm arrangement. Verién could not fight a snort of laughter at that.

"You're on a dancing in the inn, not on a solemn dinner," she said and moved close to him. "Come on, embrace me. Don't be so scared, it's only a dance, it means nothing," she reassured him as he slightly moved back. She wrapped one hand around his neck and the second one gave to him. "Now just move, it's not really important how, just lead me how you wish and I will follow, alright?"

He saw her happy smile and could not deny her. First slowly, they made a few steps on the left to turn around and make a few steps on the right. And it was enough as far. Soon, without thinking about the steps anymore, Legolas led Verién through the whole room's length, and her hair waved behind her like a veil. She looked nice with that blue ribbons on the two sides of her head.

Elrohir pulled Elladan's sleeve and they went to the waitresses. After a quick small talk both girls landed in a strong embrace of the twin brothers and started dancing across the room in the violin accompaniment. Legolas was getting more and more relaxed, the beer and the cheerful mood starting to affect him; the music drummed in his ears. The hot body next to him felt good as they jumped and turned together, in the crowd of many other couples, who were cheering and laughing. The last pangs of guilt dissolved into nothing; he moved quicker and more surely than at the beginning, and when the first song ended, the girl came and shyly asked him for a dance. Verién pushed him towards her, and the young sailor approached her.

Elladan and Elrohir decided to change their partners. Both brothers undid their braids on the one side of the head and changed the belt location on their shoulders. They were identical, so it made no difference to the girls at all: it seemed that they are gloriously blind. Verién giggled in the sailor's embrace.

A few more songs and the band stopped playing; they grew tired and wanted to drink something. A groan went through the crowd, but the dancers slowly returned to their places at tables and focused on drinking, eating and talking.

The four friends ordered one more beer. Legolas was a little tipsy, so he refused; Elladan and Elrohir were getting drunk systematically.

Suddenly someone called loudly from behind, addressing the Elven company.

"Hey, bonny lass! Yes, you Elf with long hair in front of me!" the man was not very polite, as Legolas noticed, but Verién was accustomed and answered in comparable style.

"What do you want, my mortal, humble fellow?"

"You are carrying violin with you. Play us something if you can!" he demanded. Verién snorted.

"Of course I _can_," she said and took the bow and the instrument. "Will somebody lift me up on the table?" The sailors come immediately and helped her up. "Good. Any requests about the song?"

"Sing something about home," one sailor said. "Sing of home and play the melody of homeland." He had a distant voice, and she looked on him longer before starting. A smile lit on her face, though.

A few movements of the bow and the crowd started to gather around their table, clapping hands. Verién started to sing. It was a little dirty song, but it seemed to be even better; Old Tom was laughing and tossing his walking stick up, waving his foot in the air.

_Oh well, who wouldn't be a sailor lad and sailin' on the main,_

_To gain the good will of his captain's good name?_

_He came ashore one evening for to see_

_And that was the beginning of my own true love and me._

_And it's home, boys, home…_

_Home I'd like to be, home for a while in my own country_

_Where the oak and the ash and the bonny rowan tree _

_Are all agrowin' green in my North country!_

_I asked her for a candle to light me way to bed,_

_And likewise for a handkerchief to tie around my head._

_She tended to my needs like a young maid ought to do,_

_So then I said to her: 'why don't you jump in with me too?'_

People started laughing and coming closer to the table, clapping hands more urgently. Verién was turning on the table, sending her skirt flying. When one drunk man tried to look underneath the skirt, she delicately moved him away with her foot and he landed on the floor, too drunk to get up, only causing everyone to laugh louder. He did not even try to get up, only fell asleep with a wide, drunk smile.

_She jumped into bed, making no alarm,_

_Thinking that young sailor lad would do to her no harm._

_Well, I hugged her and I kissed her the whole night long_

'_Till she wished the short night had been seven years long!_

_And it's home, boys, home…_

The sailors were grinning widely, as if they remembered something similar that happened to them during their journeys. The song about home has awakened old memories, but it was not a sad moment. It was good to have such memories.

_Early in next morning the sailor lad arose_

_And into Mary's apron threw a handful of gold,_

_Saying: 'take this, my dear, for the mischief that I've done,_

_For tonight I fear I left you with a daughter or a son'._

_And it's home, boys, home…_

_Home I'd like to be, home for a while in my old country,_

_Where the oak and the ash and the bonny rowan tree_

_Are all agrowin' green in the North country._

'_If it be a girl child, send her out to nurse,_

_With gold in her pocket and with silver in her purse._

_And if it be a boy child, he'll wear a jacket blue_

_And go climbing on the rigging, like his daddy used to do!'_

_Oh and for all of you, fair maidens, the warning take by me:_

_Never let a sailor lad an inch above your knee!_

_For I trusted one and he beguiled me,_

_He left me with a pair of twins to dangle on my knee!_

A great laughter arose from the crowd as she pointed Elladan and Elrohir, and Old Tom was holding his stomach with his hands. The sailors were cheering the loudest. Legolas knew his friends were slightly tipsy and being sober they would immediately start a banter with her, but it was fun, so great fun! Old Tom gave them one free beer more, and Legolas was sure they will return to Imladris totally drunk.

Verién was still standing on the table and bowing in thanks, when something wrong started to happen. The doors slammed open and the people jumped away hurriedly to let six people in. A murmur of fear went through the room; Legolas soon understood why.

The six looked like typical bandits, festooned with weapons: long knives, bows, swords. They were wearing colorful, rich clothes, although dirty and worn out. Their faces were painted with dark blue or red paints in stripes running from the eye corners to their necks. One man at the front, probably the ringleader, was tall and well built. He was red haired and could be even considered as handsome, but his eyes were narrow and evil. He scrubbed his chin, covered with a fair stubble, and focused at Verién standing on the table. He grinned, but rather unfriendly; the room was very silent now.

"We don't want any fight," the leader said, not letting his eyes leave the girl. "We are here for some music, some dance and some beer."

He signaled at his fellows and they left all their weapons near the wall. The knives, swords, bows, arrows, one axe, and a countless number of hidden little blades were tossed on the floor and the group, now unarmed, glanced towards Old Tom. He seemed to know them, because he nodded his head in agreement and allowed to enter. The atmosphere lightened at the sight of the weapons being yielded, but people were still looking at the bandits uncertainly.

The red haired man stepped forward, approaching the table. The twins wanted to shield Verién, but she pushed their hands aside and jumped on the floor; Legolas was just as puzzled and terrified as Elladan and Elrohir, but they all said nothing, observing the scene.

They met in the middle of the room and slowly the two evil grins broke, replaced by teasing smiles. The ringleader touched her elbows tentatively, leaned forward and when he saw permission in the girl's eyes, he delicately covered her lips with his. It was only for a brief moment, and he moved away to see her reaction. Legolas saw Verién smile more beautifully than ever before, and she suddenly wrapped her arms around the bandit's neck. He lifted her up and turned around.

"Music!" he shouted and kissed the girl passionately. Finally the people relaxed; cheers were heard as the bandits glanced on the kissing couple, and the musicians picked up their instruments to play another melody.

"I missed you," the ringleader whispered to Verién's ear. "I was looking for you."

"I know," she said.

"Now what is _that_?" He grabbed a ribbon and started to play with it; she only smiled and pulled him closer, searching to kiss him again.

"Who are your fellows?" the bandit asked, glancing at the twins and Legolas.

"Come," she grasped his hand and led him to the table. "This is Elrohir and Elladan, my brothers, and this is my friend Legolas."

"You have never told me that you have brothers," the ringleader smiled and shook Elladan's hand.

"Cousins, actually," the twin said, "but we treat her as if she was our sister."

"I'm glad to meet you. My name is Galinhorn," he said, shaking Legolas' and then Elrohir's hand.

"And… you and Verién are… a couple?" Elrohir asked, squeezing the man's hand much more fiercely than needed. The red haired looked in his eyes and put more pressure on Elrohir's fingers as well.

"Yes, we are."

"Since when?" Elrohir still refused to let go of the bandit's hand. Verién hissed warningly.

"Since one spring day many years ago," Galinhorn said. They looked at each other as if they wanted to break each other's fingers. Suddenly Galinhorn smiled friendly. "I suppose you did not know about me, while I did not know about you. Verién likes to hide the truth."

"Oh she likes, doesn't she?" Elrohir let go of his hand and stared at his sister angrily. Verién turned on her heel and went to her other friends, aware that Elrohir after two beers can be easily provoked. Elladan laid a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder, but he himself was rather shaky; Legolas just stared and said nothing. They all realized where and with whom Verién spends time after an escape from Imladris. _Lord Elrond will be mad,_ Legolas thought. _In fact, I have never seen him mad, but this time_ _I will certainly see…_

The bandits greeted the Elf warmly, sharing kisses and handshakes and exchanging teasing comments. A skinny human girl, maybe fifteen years old, ran to Verién and they hugged fiercely; one man with black hair and moustache, but still young and extraordinarily handsome, patted the elf's shoulder, then whispered something to her ear that made her push him on his chest and laugh. She bowed her head to the two men standing little away from the group, blocking the entrance with their massive shoulders. The last one from the pack was rather short and plump, and he looked like over fifty years old. He laughed, making his long whiskers to tremble, hugged Verién fiercely, and then let her go with Galinhorn, who asked her for a dance. The pack occupied one of the tables and ordered some beer.

Elrohir glanced at his sister dancing with the strange man and his mood was shattered utterly, when he saw the huge smile on her face, reddened cheeks and glowing eyes.

"Look at her, brother," Elrohir hissed. "She is… she is…"

"She is happy," Elladan said, drying his mug.

"But who the hell is he, anyway? Oh, just… Look at the guy, he must really adore her eyes, he is staring in their green depths as if he was some prince charming." Elrohir couldn't stop the bitter irony in his voice.

"He must really adore her lower back area also," Elladan noted. Legolas couldn't help a snort, and he earned himself two malicious, twin looks.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I just… don't know what to think."

"Elrond will be mad."

Old Tom went to their table to take away the empty mugs. He was hobbling and supporting on his staff, but he held the trey perfectly still. First he glanced at the violin left forgotten on the table, and then on the untouched Legolas' beer.

"Why not dried yet?" he asked with his amusing accent. " 'Tis a perfect night for drinking and dancing. I see you do neither."

Legolas forced himself to stop looking at the ribbons in Verién's hair and decided to finally find out something, as the twins were busy drowning their anger in beer.

"I think I have had enough. Sir, drink my beer and maybe you will agree to tell us a story?" he offered. Old Tom put the tray with mugs on the table and sat down eagerly; Legolas moved the beer towards him. Once he drank something, he smiled with his toothless grin and asked:

"What story, Elven lad?"

"Their story," Legolas pointed the ring of bandits by his finger. "Why do you tolerate bandits in your inn?"

"These are good lads. They're helping," Tom responded, ignoring the twin's snorts. "Now, laddie. Look at this one black, handsome guy in the corner. See?" when Legolas nodded and twins moved closer to hear better, Old Tom began the story. "He is Kohun, the ringleader's best friend. Hunted in pretty much whole of Middle Earth. Half of the depredations he did not commit, and the other three quarters I do not believe, but the legend remains. There is a dashing and brilliant tale of his greatest robbery of the Dwarvish bank. Now Old Grandpa shall tell you all about it. It was in the beginning of Spring, when…"

"No, no adventure tales and no legends, we want facts," Elrohir moaned. "It is important, Sir; tell us what you know for certain. And a condensed form please."

Old Tom seemed disappointed, but began introducing. "Galinhorn himself is a horse thief. He escaped from home full of sisters and a tyrant father. They met somewhere in Rohan, as the gossip says, and they helped each other to escape the death penalty. They were running for two months, but the Rohirrims never managed to catch them. That's why Galinhorn's nickname is 'Summer Wind'. Your friend likes to call him that," the man chuckled, but seeing the three mournful expressions, he stopped.

"Later they met Emir, that is this fat one… an exile. He escaped from four prisons already. He has a wife in Gondor and a daughter. She must look like that teenage girl next to him; her name is Fanny, she is an orphan. Emir had found her on the road, when she escaped from the fire of her hometown, in which she lost her parents and a brother. Somebody tried to violate her; the gossip says she let him start, and then she stabbed him by his own knife, as he was preoccupied with something else entirely. Emir saw that and decided to take care of her, because she had a talent and the courage needed in the bandit pack. She is a funny girl." The man laughed over his beer; Legolas dreaded the thought that the word 'funny' could have had more than one meaning.

"Well, they stumbled on Galinhorn and Kohun somewhere near Bree, they tried to rob the same merchant and in a result they helped each other to escape." Old Tom continued; Legolas and the twins exchanged disorientated looks. As far they found nothing which could make them believe in that they were 'good lads'.

"Later, this one black with bushy eyebrows is Trelanir," Tom continued. "This one really is dangerous. He was a soldier, and all we know for certain is that he deserted. But he likes burning buildings down and he is damned skilled with knives. Once I saw him killing a man and I hope I will never see again."

"And this big guy?" Elrohir asked and hiccupped.

"Nordig. I don't know much about him. He walks with an axe and he seems to like Trelanir's company, but from where he comes from or whether he has a family I do not know. It is dangerous to anger him. He infuriates quickly. And… there was one more, Welfern… he died two years ago… But as I said, these are good lads," Old Tom said and emptied Legolas' tankard.

"Good lads?" Elladan exclaimed. "They are a pack of bloody bandits, for Elbereth's sake!"

"Well, yes, but they are helping," Old Tom said, putting the mug on the table.

"Helping in what?" Legolas asked.

The man suddenly looked troubled. He lowered his voice and they had to lean in.

"Orcs are invading here often. Small packs, too small for armies or troops of Elves to take interest. When they attack, however, the whole village is seriously damaged. They are burning, killing children, stealing cattle, poisoning water, destroying our homes and fields. They take away our food, our crops! Galinhorn's ring always defended us from orcs and wargs. And… when taxes are too high to pay, they would always bring some gold pieces. They are robbing the royalties and then come here as long as the debt is paid. The noblemen can be vicious if they won't get all that is their due… and the serfdom gets worse systematically. And…"

"And what, Grandpa?" Legolas encouraged Old Tom to speaking by moving near him another beer.

"Don't tell anybody…" Tom stammered.

"We won't," the twins said in unison.

"When paid enough, they will rescue people from death penalty or prison…" Grandpa scrubbed his chin, uneasy. "They saved many good people from unjust sentences. And they are carrying messages or parcels into places other people avoid, like dungeons, hidden caves behind the marshes… in comparison with this, their past and habits is nothing," he said with confidence. "It's normal that they want to drink, run free, taste love and prank around instead of working at the fields all of their lives. They are young and much more spirited than us, farmers. They are different spirits; without them we would be all but lost!"

"Talkin' 'bout us, we heard?" Kohun said, leaning forward. "Maybe instead of pestering yer Old Grandpa, ye all should ask us?"

Tom wanted to walk away, but the others stopped him.

"Sit with us, Grandpa. We have somethin' for ya," Kohun said. Emir took out a big purse from his pack and handed it to Tom. Something was clanking metallically inside it; possibly money. The old man nodded and smiled thankfully.

"My good lads. You're saving my life," he said with even more jerky voice, filled with emotion.

"We would never let you close this inn," Kohun said. "Such a tax is a piece of cake for us."

"Whom have you robbed?" Elrohir asked in a sweet voice, crossing arms on his chest, totally unaware of that he may actually pick up a fight.

"Ye better ask whom we haven't!" the fat bandit said, eliciting the loud laugh from his companions and Elladan as well. Elrohir glanced at him with anger, but his twin half was far too drunk to notice. More, he invited the bandits to their table, and they of course agreed. Old Tom called at one waitress and she brought them a tray full of fresh bread and meat in a thick stew; Legolas reached for the brought beer and removed it from the range of Elladan's hands, to prevent him getting more drunk. It was a doomed quest, but at least he could watch that he remained conscious.

Emir and Fanny sat on both Legolas' sides; the girl assessed him from head to toe and smiled seductively, but he turned his eyes away, slightly embarrassed. He wished Verién was here to chase the girl away, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Kohun noticed his searching look and glanced around to look for his leader too. He was slightly amused.

"Have ya an idea where our chief is?" he asked.

"I guess he's busy," Trelanir said. Laughter erupted from the group again. "I bet when they will come back that lovely ribbons in her hair would appear tousled allright."

"What do you want to say by that?" Elrohir turned to the black haired bandit and narrowed his eyes.

"Only that the girl with whom you came is already someone else's girl and 'tis no use even trying something with her," came the reply in a malicious voice.

"Listen, I don't know what do you want from our sister, but in any case…" Elrohir started, but was interrupted. Galinhorn and Verién came close to the table, both tired, panting, with glowing eyes and noticeably happy. One ribbon hung on the side of the girl's head, and the bandit wore an opened shirt. He laid a hand on Trelanir's shoulder warningly.

"Don't tease, friend. Family," he said.

"You've never said anything about your family." Trelanir muttered to Verién, who sat on the table and grabbed a beer to drink something.

"The same as you," she answered, gulping down the liquid. "And I don't remember any of us asking you questions."

Trelanir bowed slightly, accepting her reasoning. Elladan waved a hand as if dismissing something and laid his head on the table, muttering slightly to himself; Verién stroked his shoulder.

"You all right, brother?" she asked with concern and he nodded, trying very hard to focus.

"He will be alright," Legolas said. "Too much beer."

"This I see…" she sighed. Fanny came closer to her and climbed on her lap, encircling her neck.

"I missed you, 'Rien," she said. Verién hugged her close.

"Oh, someone is sleepy," she whispered to her ear and kissed her gently in the temple. The girl laid her head on Verién's breast and closed her eyes, letting her Elven companion play with her hair.

"Ya talk to 'tis girl," Kohun said. "She's impossible lately. Misses ya."

Verién stroked the side of the girl's small face.

"My little Fanny… My little, poor, lost Fanny." Galinhorn was looking at Verién cradling the small human girl on her lap with an unreadable expression. Their eyes met and they both smiled; all bandits snorted with laughter.

"Exactly, how did you guys met our Verién?" Elrohir asked. "How did she became one of you?"

"I know you're annoyed," Verién said.

"I'm not annoyed. I'm just curious now," he stretched on the chair and urged the girl to speak. Old Tom came closer, knocking with the walking stick; he was listening greedily to every word to put the story into his tale book later. Verién glanced at Legolas. He raised his eyebrows; your story cannot be worse than mine, his look said. Even Elladan lifted his head a bit from the table.

"Maybe I will start," Emir spoke. Verién agreed with a smile; his talent to telling stories was comparable only to Erestor's.

Soon they found themselves listening to every detail and laughing as Verién kept adding little fragments, correcting Emir. Galinhorn was rather silent, but with time and the beer loss even Elrohir had to admit he gained a sort of liking to the red bandit; he was intelligent and his responses were sharp yet funny when asked or teased about something.

They found out that the ring met with their sister on the second trip on her own. She had been looking for some loneliness and silence; instead she had found thieves who robbed her and left without a horse. She followed them in a reckless attempt to take her things back and that way she met Galinhorn, who had been lying on a sickbed at the time. Having seen some of Elrond's work, Verién helped; unreasonably and hopelessly they fell in love, and their relationship lasted through years. When she felt she cannot bear the bandits any more, she used to return to Imladris. When she felt she can't stand her friends' and beloved's absence any more, she escaped from her uncle into wilderness.

The twins were a little shocked, but they knew their little sister. She never really shook off the rejections in her life and did not fit at court. The twins' anger ceased as they heard from Old Tom what the bandits really do; they could understand the appeal it had. But they also knew that Elrond would not calm so quickly. Hundreds of questions were still unanswered. They were seriously worried.

But now it was no use to make a scene. She would flee with her bandit friends and they would have to tell Adar about the trip to the inn. Moreover, none of the questions would be answered. Only taking her home and a calm talk would help and this they knew.

In the meantime Elladan sobered and Verién got drunk in his stead. They all had light moods, and were having great fun. The ring proved to be a pack of fine young people, who loved fun, music and dance, good stories of heroic deeds, adventures and danger. It was difficult for the farmers to understand them, but not for the warriors that the twins were. Legolas had no idea whatsoever about such a way of life, but it fascinated him; it intrigued him to the point of admiring these people.

When the inn emptied a little, beer and other spirits lost their appeal. On the table appeared some strange leaves and a small amount of white powder; some of the bandits took their part, some refused, some were groggy already. But when Kohun reached for one small, brown, dry leaf to chew it, Galinhorn interfered and hit him hard in the back of his head with the empty bottle. He fell on the floor, unconscious.

"Sleep well, my friend." Galinhorn said and stormed on Nordig, who had put the leaves on the table before. "Get the Coffin Nail out of my sight, immediately."

Before the tall man could take the drug away, Legolas recognized it and quickly snatched one leaf to take a closer look. Verién turned to him instantly, worry written all over her face.

"I know this leaf," he said. "I remember. Moreth was giving it to me on the way from Mirkwood."

"You come from Mirkwood?" Galinhorn said, when Verién took the leaf away from her friend, giving him a glance that meant no discussion.

"Yes. What is this?" he asked, pointing the drug.

"Coffin Nail. It's a dangerous drug. You cannot imagine how one suffers from an overdose," Verién said. "It affects the nervous system; by that, it dulls the pain, relaxes the muscles and eases breathing. But a heart is also a muscle. And it can be stopped." She sighed. "Uncle told me that you were being given this through a longer period of time. Were you a man, you would be all but lost to us. Even with your Elven strength, you had been through withdrawal. Legolas, you must never ever take it again; no one really knows how your system would react, you may die."

"I didn't want to take it," Legolas shook his head. "I just wanted to see… Gaps in the memory." He smiled sadly and she stroked his arm in a comforting gesture.

"But if you come from Mirkwood, well… Because you're not royalty, are you? We heard stories about…" Galinhorn started, but Verién laid a finger over her mouth.

"Don't ask him about anything, Summer Wind," she said. "Simply don't."

"Understood," he agreed and smiled to Legolas. The Elf was very thankful not to be forced to answer any questions. He doubted that he would ever be able to talk about it steadily to anyone, but answered Galinhorn with a small smile too. In the bandits' presence he felt quite good. Almost like with Verién.

One of the women walking around approached their table. The bandits glanced at her and moaned irritatingly.

"Oh no, not again, Merle! What do you want this time?" Galinhorn snapped.

"I want to help you," the woman said. She had a strange accent, prompting different place of birth. Her dark carnation and black hair were also a bit exotic in these lands. "The fortune teller shall tell you the truth, you shall see, you shall see…" she hummed.

"Merle, your prophecies never ever come true. Even if you told me I will get stoned this evening I would have doubts, just because it was you who said that. You are not a fortune teller, only..." Emir hesitated.

"…just a witch," someone added. Laughter erupted from the table. Undaunted Merle came closer to Verién and took her hand.

"I don't have any money," the girl said annoyed, accenting each word.

"I don't want money." Merle smiled.

"Oh, that's something new. What do you want, then?"

The woman was silent a short while, tracing the lines at Verien's palm with a long finger.

"You worry about a choice. But the choice will disappear with the kiss of the arrow," she said deadly serious. The little crowd snorted with laughter again; Verién shrugged. Merle moved to Galinhorn.

"You should avoid Elves, at least in this week," she announced, frowning. The red ringleader glanced at Verién and they both laughed. The woman told Emir to throw away his pipe and his tobacco, because it will bring him a disaster, and said something about wheels and fire to Nordig, who could barely restrain himself not to throw her out of the warm inn.

Suddenly Merle stopped before Legolas and her eyes widened. She grabbed his hand quickly and pulled fiercely near her to see better. Legolas tried to wrench his hand out, but Verién stopped him.

"It's alright, Legolas. Don't mind her, it's just for fun," she laughed. The blonde slowly sat back in his chair.

"Listen carefully," Merle whispered threateningly. "You are in danger. This what you fear the most shall return from the oblivion to invade your heart, to attack what you called peace. In the next few days a green man will bring you harm. Beware of a green man!" she exclaimed and started to wail silently, turning around in circles and threading her fingers through her hair.

A strange silence hung above the table. Legolas blinked rapidly; was this a threat or a stupid joke? Was the woman insane?

"Eerm… but there are no green people in Arda, are there?" he asked. She stopped and stared at him with her unusual eyes with an unreadable expression.

"Well, that was quite a show, Merle," Galinhorn said with a definite underlining. "We're all very thankful for the prophecies, but I think you should ask Old Tom to give you a room and lay down in a clean, warm bed today. Here," he put some gold into her hand and started to push her towards the counter. She slipped out of his hold with grace that was totally unexpected and went straight to Elrohir.

"You are ancient, yet young as for your race. There are ones whom you love more than you are willing to admit. Your acceptance will matter on some things; so I give you an advice not to judge with a son's eyes." Merle patted his cheek and started circling again. Galinhorn stopped her in mid-turn.

"I don't want any money, I said."

"Take it," the ringleader insisted. "Take it or I shall feel offended."

Merle took the money and sighed deeply.

"Thank you. You are good." She announced.

Galinhorn snorted. "I know, dear old witch, I know."

Merle turned on her heel and laid a hand upon Galinhorn's chest; her brow furrowed and she muttered something under her breath.

"Be blessed and safe from any traps and betrayals. One more advice, brave man," she said. "Don't mount a brown horse, or else you'll fail when you most needed to success. Remember."

With that she went away.

"Strange person," Emir muttered, standing up from the floor. The bandits nodded and Elladan stared at the dark figure, saying nothing. Legolas sighed deeply; his heart has long stopped feeling dread with every step and being afraid of mere shadows behind a corner. This fake prophecy could not scare him this easily. But even he could detect the sudden strangeness in the bandit's demeanor, as if everybody was secretly thinking about what he has heard.

Elrohir' shoved his brother in the arm to wake him up.

Suddenly shouting and sounds of a fight erupted from the other end of the inn. Some fight started and several bandits went there, to help Tom turn the drunk and angry people out from the inn. For them it was great fun, but Tom, old and enfeebled, thought otherwise. He had not the strength to conquer a drunk, young man.

Kohun stirred on the floor and rose on his wobbly legs, holding on the table. He looked around rather unfocusedly and finally managed to glance at Verién.

"Did ya hit me before?" he asked.

"Nay. It wasn't me, but it was a good thing, too." She replied. "Fellow, you're groggy enough, sit nicely and don't mess around, will you?" she held him up and sat him down at the table. She turned to the twins to tell them that they should be coming back, but a limp Kohun fell off the bench, grabbing one of the sailors by his legs. The man pushed him on another passer-by, who held a tray with beer tankards. The liquid was spilled on the floor, tables and men, and one very angry and very wet sailor hit the waiter with a tray in the jaw. He fell on the ground, pushing more people.

A few curses and two more backhands later the fight started thoroughly, and the band in the corner started to play vigorously now, making a merry background. Elladan and Elrohir quickly slid under the table, grabbing Legolas with them.

Verién did not react on the urgent calls of her brothers to join them. She was determined to get her friend out from the centre of the fight, especially if he was totally disoriented. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him out from the fighting human mess; one tall sailor dared to stand on her way, but when he swiped on her, she grabbed a chair from behind and shattered it on his back. He grabbed the edge of Kohun's shirt, falling; the bandit slipped and during his flight to meet the ground he kicked the table, which covered the twins and Legolas, with enough force to knock it over.

In a second Galinhorn was near Verién to protect her, and it was a wise idea, because the sailor got up and clenched his hands on Verién's waist. She reached a hand and Galinhorn handed her the first thing he grabbed: a huge frying pan from the wall behind the counter. After the hit the man sat on the floor, supported his back on the fallen table and smiled with an absent smile, utterly happy.

"Boys, time to go," Verién said hurriedly and grabbed Legolas' elbow to pull him up; Elrohir helped his brother, Galinhorn punched one more drunk sailor and Kohun obediently stumbled behind them.

Outside the inn Verién came closer to the well, put both her hands in the icy water and wetted her face and neck to sober up. The twins followed her example, then went to the fence to retrieve the horses, leaving marks of footsteps in the first snow that managed to cover the ground with a thin layer throughout the night.

The girl turned to her love.

"I have to go. You know it. Tell the others…" she started, but he cut her off.

"I will tell them. I know."

She kissed him gently, stroked the side of his face and turned to mount Roachie. He assisted with his arm. Roach knew him, she nuzzled his chest with her velvety nose, snorted and pushed him with her head lightly.

"You remember me, old lady," the bandit teased. Legolas mounted the mare and held the reins; he suspected this time he would be leading instead of Verién.

"This night was a stolen one," Verién sighed. "We weren't meant to see each other so quickly."

"You regret?" Galinhorn asked, reaching for her for the last time.

"No. I already miss you," she whispered. The twins waved their hands to the bandit and he bowed his head to them, then to Legolas, who did the same.

And it was all. No long and touching farewells of lovers. But still, when the three Elves glanced at Verién, they knew that something beautiful, something moving and something totally tragic happened already and they were not able to help in any way. The Elf loved a mortal; a noble house reached for a bandit.

"You seem to have a disaster flowing in your blood, little sister," Elladan remarked. "And no, I do not like him."

"Sure." Legolas muttered to himself.

(1) I was wondering long how to put the date down, I finally decided on this way. Names of all the Elven 'months'/ 'seasons' can be found in previous chapters, if you wish to check. The number of days in each 'season' I adopted from some lvish calendar information webpage.^^ I hope this is clear enough.


	3. Lies and faults

TRYING TO PUSH THE PAST AWAY

BOOK TWO

DISCLAIMER: I do not own „Lord Of The Rings". Whole recognizable belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Written only for fun, no money made.

WARNINGS: None for this chapter.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here is, next chapter with lots of Elrond and a pinch of angst just to make it spicy. Blessings to you all in this special time of year. And, well, please review!

Due to some accident, some italics speech appeared glued together. Now I corrected it. Thanks all people who noticed, but I didn't put the words this way, the site did.^^

Chapter 3 : LIES AND FAULTS

/*/

After a hurried sneak in back to their rooms at dawn, the four friends lay in their beds nicely, only to get up an hour later. Verién was emanating with pure happiness and acted like a happy little idiot, dancing through the corridors, humming while working with Neremiel, sighing and staring at the horizon, in her free time playing violin, smiling to everyone in range and being extremely, annoyingly kind and helpful. Legolas was looking at her and knew if she won't stop this, Elladan, Elrohir and himself would no longer need to keep the secret about Galinhorn, as they promised her yesterday. She would reveal it by herself to the whole of Imladris, Lord Elrond included.

On the other side of the palace the twins were having a hangover. When they learned that the council session had been postponed, they felt free to stay abed until midday. They refused to eat because of the nausea and tried really hard not to let their father see them, because obvious marks of drinking and lack of sleep appeared all over their faces, impossible to misjudge. Only Legolas looked normally, but even he could not work without suspicious yawning.

Soon after lunch Erestor got involved in tracing the whole conspiracy, though, and the truth simply had to resurface. He was informed about the stable door left open and the muddy stains on Elrohir's horse, while the boys from the stables were pretty sure they combed and cleaned the animal yesterday afternoon. Erestor quickly connected the muddy horse with the twins' obvious signs of hangover and become highly suspicious about Verién's merry mood. He decided to keep it for himself, not to cause them any trouble.

But when a bit later he found a red ribbon on the floor in the kitchen, he could not stop himself and went upstairs to interrupt Elrond and Glorfindel with their work. He simply had to ask; it was just his nature.

"My Lord, Glorfindel, did any of you order the twins to ride somewhere yesterday evening?" he asked when granted entrance.

"I know nothing of this," Elrond replied and Glorfindel shook his head innocently. "Why?"

"Because Elrohir's horse is strangely muddied, the stable door were left open and both your sons seem to have a hangover," Erestor said and frowned. "I also found this near the window sill in the kitchen's wing. I could swear Verién is wearing a similar ribbon in her hair today."

Elrond examined the ribbon and clenched his jaw tight.

"Could you bring them here, Erestor?" he asked in a dangerously low voice. "Oh, and Legolas as well. I feel he may have something in common with it."

Glorfindel knew this frown and this tone of voice. He quickly recognized it was time for him to vanish, because the room would in a minute become a polygon.

"I… just realized I have something very important to do," he said and ran out of the room. Elrond waited, drumming his fingers on the table, waiting for his sons, niece and their friend to come. Soon they appeared, entered the room and stood silently in front of the Elf Lord. Erestor closed the door behind him.

Elladan and Elrohir already knew a disaster would come. Legolas was suspecting it. Verién still had a glimmer of hope to avoid the consequences. They all stood perfectly still, and the room was very quiet. Elrond stretched his long legs in front of him and folded his hands on his lap, fingers touching. He was not looking at them, only staring towards the window.

"Tell me, dear children," he begun very slowly and calm as far, but they cringed inside. "Where have you been yesterday night?"

Elrohir cursed noiselessly. Elladan shut his eyes closed and swallowed before speaking.

"Nowhere, Adar. We were in the palace whole night." His voice came out so thin that his brother shot him a glance in which amusement was mixing with pity.

"And in addition you are lying." Elrond frowned, still staring at the window. "It wasn't that hard to predict that the mud will inevitably leave stains of your horses. If you do not know that, I seriously doubt in your ranger skills and will have to reconsider allowing you to go with the soldiers for another orc hunt, I think."

Shocked silence and terrified looks answered him. Elrond still refused to look at them.

"So you two are guilty. Verién, show me your braid." Elrond demanded. Elladan, who was standing closer, pulled one of the ribbon's ends and untangled it from the braid. Verién swung her hair over her shoulder and laid it on her breast for Elrond to see.

"Elladan, give me the ribbon you have just taken off her braid." Elrond said and the twin shuddered, but came closer and laid the ribbon on the desk.

"So Verién was with you. Legolas," Elrond grinned evilly and the fair Elf felt he is panicking quickly. "I suppose you were with my sons and my niece, weren't you?"

"He didn't come with us," said the twins and Verién in unison, and they did manage to sound really believable. Legolas dared to raise his eyes from the floor and glance at them.

"He did not come with you _where_?" Elrond asked, glancing at them.

The three exchanged looks. Legolas returned to staring at the floor.

"He did not come with us to the inn in the town nearby, to the dancing," Elrohir said, sighing and scratching his head in defeat. "We tried to convince him the whole day, but he disagreed."

Lord Elrond fell silent and only regarded his children in an angry silence. Legolas writhed in his spot. One part of him desperately wanted Elrond to believe the lie, because he feared the consequences dearly. In the same time, his other half screamed in protest. Elrond was his Master. That alone demanded obedience and truthfulness. He wouldn't be that concerned with it if Elrond was a cruel owner Legolas had been so used to; only Elrond wasn't. He has done so much for him, he even agreed to teach him, and Legolas repaid him by such an obvious disobedience. He felt that lying to Elrond is even worse than disobeying him. Besides, his friends would be punished in his stead, what seemed more than unfair. No, Legolas couldn't agree.

"Is that true, Legolas? You stayed in the palace?" Elrond asked, looking at him directly. These grey eyes demanded a truthful answer. Legolas felt Verién and Elrohir stepping on his feet or kicking him in the ankles, urging him to admit the story, but he simply could not. And even if he knew he would be punished strictly, he held Elrond's gaze and feeling completely lost, guilty and unworthy spoke up.

"No, my Lord, it's not true. I came with them willingly. It is my fault as well," he said. The twins shook their heads and cursed identically, and Verién moaned.

"Legolas, only you could do that," she said quietly, but not quiet enough. Elrond lost his patience.

"You want to tell me that you left the palace through the kitchen's window in the middle of the night, sneaked out of Imladris and went to _the__dancing_?" He stormed. "I did not suspect my own sons would be irresponsible and immature enough to do such a thing! You didn't tell anyone where would you be and until which hour! If something had happened, how we were supposed to help you, how to find you, while we had no idea where have you been? And who it was who arrived from Lothorien lately and delivered March Warden's report, in which he says that groups of orcs are heading in Imladris' direction? You were unarmed and drunk, and it wouldn't be difficult for a brainless troll to slain all of you! How could you endanger a girl? How could you put Legolas in this situation, he does not know how to defend himself, and he wouldn't refuse you, he follows you everywhere! How could you not think about a crowd of drunk humans, thieves, murders, bandits! Is it such a pleasure to dance with drunkards? Only that kind of people stay in the inn until dawn, and you returned when the sun was already quite high on the sky! Was it really such a great fun to get drunk and fell asleep under the table on the filthy floor? And after awakening realize your goods were stolen?"

The twins cringed at every sound. They had a terrible headache.

"Adar… please…"

"…not so loud…"

"It is only your fault that you have a hangover!" Elrond yelled.

If Legolas could, he would certainly hide beneath the table and never, ever come up. Valar, he was so sorry, so guilty, so ashamed. Elrond paced through his chamber like a great cat, glancing at them from time to time and going on with the tirade, and the worst thing was that he was completely right.

"I'm greatly disappointed. You acted like immature elflings. You are my family, did you not think that whatever you do reflects back on me? Well, thank you, really, for putting me in this situation. On top of all the trouble I have recently the only people I could expect support from are behaving like children. Seemingly that is exactly what you are still."

Elrond stopped in front of the window and massaged his brow.

"I thought I could trust you with helping me, but apparently all you can be trusted with is cleaning up after yourselves. Go and brush the horses. The grooms have other work to do than to serve princelings."

They all nodded. The twins muttered silent 'yes, Adar', and bowed their heads.

"Off you go. And I better not see you for the rest of the day. Tell Glorfindel that I wait for him."

The four friends were a little shocked to find Erestor and Glorfindel using a glass to hear better what was happening in the room. Not that they really needed it when Elrond was shouting, but Glorfindel was still clinging to the bottom side with his ear, pressing the open side of the glass to the wall.

"I've heard" he said only and patted Legolas' arm. The Elf looked really bad. He bowed his head to him and run down the stairs; he wanted to be alone, to calm himself without his friends' comforting looks. He appreciated them, but needed to cope with this himself. He has just disobeyed, offended and angered greatly his Master Elrond, his savior and the most kind Lord he ever met, while he had so many times before promised himself he would never do that.

/*/

Legolas has ended his tasks for the day and was doing his best to hide. He wished to be left alone with his misery, even if he knew that the twins and Verién are searching for him in the whole palace. He went to the gardens, and hid on the vegetable grounds behind the pumpkins. He sat on the ground and embraced his legs with his arms. He felt sick.

He thought about the whole night in the inn. He was really having fun. There was dancing, music, food, beer and new people who were all kind and merry. He felt really good there. It was the first time he has ever been on the dancing, the first time he saw a real inn: a place meant to be having fun in, where anybody could come and eat or drink and be happy with others, who came for the same purpose.

There was a while, one sweet while, a brief moment. Elladan was drunk, Elrohir rather dazed, Verién was nowhere to be seen. And he, Legolas, was sitting at the table with bandits and his drunk friends and one thought struck his mind: he could simply rise, turn on a heel and walk out of the inn, then take a horse and ride away. He felt completely free to do it, as if he had never been a slave before. He felt as if he was absolutely normal, totally free, unguarded, allowed to do it.

Of course, he did not want to ride away. But this realization was such a wonderful experience that he couldn't help a wide smile. He had closed his eyes then and dried his tankard, and started to talk with the bandits totally at ease. No one rejected him because he was different. He felt like an equal among the bandits, a few frivolous prostitutes and drunk twins. For once in his life he felt he was normal. As if his past never existed. As if nothing had happened. As if he had normal memories of a mother and a father, and a home, and maybe a little brother, like Neremiel. Like he had had a normal childhood and his parents were waiting for him at home.

This one precious feeling was enchanting, but it was not real. It was only a faint illusion. And for this one nonexistent, invisible, unworthy illusion he ruined everything. He disrespected Elrond. He could not find the words to describe how guilty and sorry he felt. _After__all__he__had__done__for__me__… __after__all__this__I__'__m__disobeying__him.__I__'__m__not__worth__the__mercy__he__shows__me.__I__deserved__being__beaten__and__turned__out__from__this__bright__place.__I__deserve__coming__back__to__the__dungeon__in__Mirkwood.__I__deserve__all__that,_ Legolas thought and buried his face in his hands, curling in a little ball on the ground.

"Oh, Valar. Legolas, please," a voice suddenly appeared. It was Verién.

She sighed and sat next to him. The twins followed her example and surrounded the pitiful figure on the ground to embrace and comfort him.

"Look, it is not the first time Adar is mad at us, not the last! He simply needs some time to calm down. As you saw, he is overreacting pretty much and he's really keen on making others feel guilty for what they had done," Elrohir said to Legolas, pulling him to a sitting position.

"Don't let his words make you despair. Personally I think that after two thousand something years of obedience you should be allowed one disobedient night." Elladan assured, patting the dirt off Legolas' back. Verién simply opened her arms and the fair Elf leaned to her for a hug.

"I have to apologize," he mumbled.

"I suggest to wait with apologizing until tomorrow. For now he is far too angry. But yes, we will have to apologize him, boys," Verién sighed. "It was very stupid of us to leave the evidence and make him worried. We should have cleaned better."

"No one paid attention, we were home and safe and we just let our guard down," Elladan sighed. "He was right about that. We should be more attentive. We should guard each other's back and never forget about ranger skills."

"Yes… he was right about that." Elrohir muttered unhappily. "We became too complacent."

"Wait… you are… sorry that he found out the truth… and not that you disobeyed him?" Legolas asked.

The three smiled mischievously.

"That is correct. We are old enough to defend ourselves should anything happen and old enough to decide how and where we want to have fun. That includes also assessing the place and people as safe to do so. Moreover, we are younger and more spirited than a domesticated Lord. What looks like good fun for us, does not appeal to Ada and the other way round. We do not regret that we want to live and use our freedom. But we knew he wouldn't like this and be worried sick. We acted irresponsibly and foolishly by letting him find out." Elrohir explained. "Do you understand?"

"Yes…" Legolas sighed. "But…"

"Please, drop that slave perspective." Verién added patiently. "Look: uncle has just counted you among his children." She smiled. "You are not his son, nor are you fostered, so he could barely order you to go to your room. But you are under his protection, so he chose to reprimand you with his own sons."

Legolas' eyes widened. He never thought about it like that.

"Adar never angers for long. He only yells a lot. You'll see, he will calm down and everything will be fine again," Elladan said.

"I will never, ever disobey him again," Legolas whispered. "I feel awful. In fact… I was never sorry when apologizing my Master before… Most of my punishments were a beating because of an imaginary crime. But now…"

_I__feel__so__ashamed,__so__degraded__by__my__own__idiocy__as__never__before,_he ended in his thoughts.

"Oh, you are overreacting too" Verién smiled, but stroked his head with compassion.

"No… he is just sensitive," Elrohir corrected his sister. "But really, Adar had been going crazy in the past sometimes. This was just an unpleasant monologue. You need not worry, Legolas."

"I think what unnerved him the most was our try to lie to him," Elladan said, biting his bottom lip.

"Yeah, we shouldn't have done that as well," Verién sighed, observing a long, furry caterpillar making her way up the stem of the pumpkin. "Because you see, boys… lies are like butterflies. They all just die in a couple of days."

/*/

Sitting in the quiet chamber with his liege, Glorfindel kept observing, making no comments and going through the work that was his due. Lately the lords and representatives of the lower town reached a consensus about the new bridge that was supposed to bring some relief to the eastern tract. Long negotiations and repetitive objections from a part of the community tired Elrond and worn his patience thin. Now, as they finally made a compromise and all the measurements were delivered, a whole lot of paperwork had to be done and savings counted. The Lord sat down to work with a cloudy and resigned, yet determined, half-angry expression Glorfindel didn't like the most. The twins' mischief pained him more than he was willing to admit. And Glorfindel knew why: due to involving Legolas.

Glorfindel really treasured his friendship with Elrond. Usually, the Lord was calm and reasonable, kind, supportive and emphatic. But when his own heart was concerned, Elrond was becoming impossible. He had suffered too many rejections and too much pain to be secure about his love life. And obviously, his affection towards the blond slave did not lessen lately. His misbehaviour today wasn't handled perfectly.

And Elrond was bitter about it.

"Umm… Elrond?" Glorfindel nudged him, reaching for a clean parchment.

"Yhm?" the Elf Lord murmured, busy with reading a formulary of sorts.

"I was thinking… about today's morning…" Glorfindel said slowly, carefully choosing words. "About the twins and Verién. Are you still upset?"

Elrond scowled at him. "Of course I am upset. I never expected such foolishness from my own sons."

"And niece."

"Yes, and niece," Elrond put the formulary away and closed the paper writing case, into which he was gathering all the necessary acts, allowances and decrees.

"And… your beloved?"

Elrond froze. He spared Glorfindel a longer glance, but sighed and shook his head in defeat.

"I am too tired for your games, Glorfindel. What is it you want to say?"

"You treated him like one of your children. It's not very fitting, your very feelings considered. You are in love and you would want him to love you back one day. So… well, you can't really treat him like your… son." The Seneschal explained.

Elrond only sighed and nodded, what made Glorfindel stare in shock. He expected an outburst or a fit of yelling.

"I know."

Glorfindel frowned. Was this all he would get? Elrond looked more crestfallen and vulnerable than he had in years, going through the papers absentmindedly, his eyes drifting towards the library. The one where Legolas was taking his writing lessons.

"Elrond… speak to me." There was serious worry in Glorfindel's voice, what stirred Elrond a bit. He gave him a sad glance and shrugged.

"I know I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have reprimand my adult sons this way, too, since they should be old enough to know better. But when they are making such obvious mistakes…" he supported his forehead on his palm, rubbing steadily and closing his eyes. "What if he will never learn? What if he remains a child to the end of his days? That would be perfectly understandable after… Oh Valar," Elrond shook his head. Glorfindel understood he unconsciously abandoned the topic of the twins and was opening up. This was happening so rarely that he was almost afraid to breathe, not to discourage his friend or ruin the opportunity.

"Let's just face it," Elrond eyed the dull papers again. "I am being even more foolish than my children at the moment. From all available, I chose a child. A child with no background nor position, orphaned with barely a name left. He has been through something that twisted and fractured his physical and mental well-being. He is illiterate, uneducated, insecure and dependant on others. His very survival is still uneven. There is a minuscule chance of him being normal ever again. And even smaller one that he would return my feelings. Besides, what quality would those feelings be?" he reached for a thick tome on law and opened it on the section 'architectural engineering'. "There is work, Glorfindel, it won't suddenly do itself, and… I really don't want to talk about it."

Glorfindel was speechless.

"Elrond… you are not giving up on him, are you?"

The Lord of Imladris raised his tired eyes on his friend.

"Shouldn't I?"

He waited for some form of an answer for a few minutes, but hearing none, he returned to the lecture. Glorfindel was sitting stiff and cold on his seat, watching Elrond slip into indifference and aloofness with real fright.

"No." He stammered. "You shouldn't. At least not yet."

Elrond stopped reading, but did not raise his head.

"Look, I've been thinking about it recently. I was worried about you. I had all these thoughts and summarized him with the same words you used a while ago. It is all truth. But we miss something." Glorfindel put away the letters and papers and approached his friend. "We forgot the bigger picture. Look at how stunning progress he has made! He came here in Spring. We had the first snow only yesterday. It's not even a full year! And look at him: he began to live. He is of a great help to the household. He found friends, started learning things, discovering everything from the beginning. You told me one day that he could roughly count his age as two thousand years old. If so, how could he develop, how could he recover that quickly after so much abuse? Excluding the possibility of the Valar intervening, this should be impossible. But we all saw the extent of abuse and we have witnesses, he really had been ground down year after year and I just had this thought…" Glorfindel sighed, raked a hand through his hair.

"What?" Elrond urged him on.

"Remember how you told me he is healing more like a human would? That he resembles humans when he is not glowing and feeling cold?" Glorfindel asked and his friend nodded. "Maybe this includes his psyche as well? Humans… they don't have the whole eternity to deal with their problems nor the Valinor in the West. They just have to be more resilient and… that's why the mental wounds are closing quicker. So that they can live on."

Elrond was staring at him.

"So… you want to say…"

"That maybe you won't have to wait that long at all."

The Lord stood up and went closer to the window, deep in thought. Glorfindel's words sounded reasonably, but these were only suspicions and they created questions on their own. Looking down, he saw his sons coming back from the stables into the palace. They must have been brushing the horse.

"Don't be angry with them. You can be proud of your children. It's just… they are young. And happy. Let them live that happiness, that freedom. Let them taste it. It is so amazing, so alluring, and you know it." Glorfindel spoke somewhat sadly. "I think all they wanted to do was to show Legolas that taste. Can you blame them?"

"No." Elrond whispered.

"You are a good father, Elrond." Glorfindel rested his weight on the doorframe, coming to stand next to his friend.

Elrond was staring into the distance, above the tree tops.

"Am I?"

"Of course you are!" Glorfindel exclaimed. "Even Celebrian admitted that openly."

Magical word spoken, Glorfindel almost flinched. Elrond's face immediately became a steel mask and he straightened unconsciously, as if bracing himself for the attack. The Seneschal didn't mean to; he really didn't mean to hurt Elrond with this name.

"You really are a good father," he added quickly. "You are doing an excellent job. I think it couldn't turn out better for your children. You are doing things right."

Elrond stood motionless for a while, but then the stiff frame relaxed a fraction.

"Yes, she said so." He sighed. "She said a couple of other things as well."

Glorfindel gasped and made a move as if he wanted to grab Elrond's shoulder, but stopped in time. "Elrond, please… don't. Listen, you can't take her words seriously. She was hurting, bitter, she was not herself. She didn't mean that. And besides, don't tell me you believed in this… This was not your fault, there was nothing more you could do, it wasn't you who failed."

"She didn't fail! She tried so hard! She did her best!"

"But she shouldn't have put the blame on you!" Glorfindel gestured violently with his hands, desperately needing his friend to understand.

Elrond was silent for a good while.

"Celebrian of all people had a right to say that." He silenced Glorfindel's immediate protests with a gesture. "I shouldn't have sent her alone on that travel, I should have been there with her. I should have doubled, no, tripled the escort. She was my wife, the most precious person I had except my children. She was right to point out this incompetence and she was right accusing me of not repairing this mistake. I could not save her. Her body recovered after…" Elrond swallowed, "...after that what they have done to her, but her spirit… It was my duty to save her. I was her husband. The closest friend, her protector. She trusted me. And I could not do anything. She had a right to say she doesn't love me anymore and she can't stand staying in Middle Earth any longer because of me. Now I know she had… a right… to feel like that."

"Please, Elrond. You know that…" Glorfindel interrupted his Lord, but was cut off.

"I know that you all try to comfort me. But I realize that I was a bad husband. She couldn't count on me when the bad times came. And during our stable marriage… She felt the loss… of a more passionate partner I couldn't have been. It really was all my fault."

"It was your fault because you prefer males? Elrond, what is it? You have never been one to rebel against the will of the Valar or laws of nature, and they both made you the way you are! Is it such a bad thing? Elrond… Elrond, look at me…" he insisted, grabbing his friend's arms. "None of this was your fault, and you do know this deep inside. It's just you are very upset and distraught today. Please, my friend, shake this folly off. You are the wisest healer of Middle-Earth, the kind Lord of the Last Homely House. You are the one I have been appreciating and regarding through millennia. I know you well, Peredhel. You can't be serious saying this. You know it's not true."

Elrond was looking at him sadly and calmly.

"You need rest, my friend. Let's ditch this work for today, you are in no shape for that." Glorfindel said a while of staring later, regretting he can't say anything better. "Let's go down to the Hall of Fire, eat dinner and call it a day, shall we?"

Elrond grimaced. "I would want to eat alone today."

Glorfindel hesitated.

"May I stay…?"

Elrond glanced at him, a bit surprised. "You can always stay, Glorfindel." He said.

"Good. I'll go and ask Belithravien to prepare the meal." He went towards the door slowly, but stopped halfway. "Elrond… the twins and Arwen do not know, right?"

Elrond shook his head.

"Maybe they should know what she said? They worry for you so much. It would help them understand."

Elrond turned fully towards the window and stood facing it, keeping his back to his friend.

"I… can't imagine how such a talk could come to pass. No, Glorfindel."

"We are all trying to push the past away," Glorfindel muttered, leaving.

Elrond smiled sadly.

"Indeed," he whispered, gazing at the horizon. The days were much shorter now and the sun was leaning towards the west, half-ready to set. It was slowly making the trees stand out from the background in a black wall of lean silhouettes. The courtyard was empty except for the guards; the wind howled viciously and they had started fires in special, metal baskets to keep them warmer and keep the shadows at bay.

One would think that nothing more would happen in this cold, autumn afternoon, leaving all the inhabitants melancholic and idle. But this happened to be one of the difficult days, when the misfortunate circumstances show up in pairs.

Elrond saw a small crowd near the gates. He opened the balcony door and gathering the robe around himself leaned over the railing to see better. It seemed like a few guardians from the border were escorting a small contingent. The group was approaching the Palace quickly, so soon the colours the envoys wore could be spotted; it was dark green and gold of Mirkwood messengers.

The group halted at the courtyard, but by this time Elrond was already going down the stairs. The seals of Lathronios near the saddles were as unexpected as curious; what would the king of Mirkwood want?

_And where is Legolas?_

The twins, Verién and his elfling heard about the guests too. Neremiel ran to them immediately hearing that the border guards were coming closer to the palace. The twins jumped up at the news. Quickly leaving the gardens, they circled the household buildings and showed up at the inner courtyard just when the contingent was entering through the main gate.

"What the hell?" Verién murmured, seeing the green cloaks and fur collars.

"Come, Erestor is over there," Elladan said and grabbed Legolas' elbow, but he was standing motionless and staring wide eyed at the messenger's green outfit. He recognized it instinctively. A Mirkwood envoy. He stared at him, standing behind the wall and breathing heavily. He almost did not hear what his friends were saying to him.

"Legolas, what happened? What…?" Elladan asked, shaking his arm. Legolas gave him a frightened stare; the messenger from Mirkwood could mean several things, but none of them was especially appealing.

"Legolas! Look at me!" Verién said, standing in front of him and taking his face in hands to force him to look her in the eye. "What happened?"

"The envoy from Mirkwood" he whispered. Verién nodded.

"We can see. Don't worry, you don't need to show yourself to him. And it's only five of them, one envoy, four guards, we can handle them," she said and Elrohir winked when Legolas glanced at him worriedly.

"They are going to the Hall," the twin said and his brother urged him to come. "We must go. Ada would want us there." They ran off, leaving their friend with Verién.

In the council hall the small crowd became a big agitated crowd of Elves. Someone ran to get Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel. Erestor approached the guests to greet them and usher them further.

"Greetings, my Lord," the envoy said to him, bowing courtly. "I come with a message for Lord Elrond the Peredhel. The King of Greenwood Forest wishes me to give him this letter."

"Lord Elrond will be here in a minute. Welcome," Erestor said and the group slowly went onto the Hall. The twins entered as well and greeted the envoy.

Glorfindel came next and the boy sent to bring the Lord met him halfway. Elrond came into the chamber, glanced at the group standing near the entrance and recognized the envoy as one that was coming with letters and messages for the most times. He sighed with relief imperceptibly.

"Welcome," he said approaching and the envoy knelt respectfully. "What brings you here?"

"My King sends me with a letter to you, my Lord. Also, he seeks your hospitality for the delegation that will arrive in two days time. I had been sent ahead to inform you. My King sends a depute to discuss some matters of importance," the envoy said, still bowing low. "I hope that the letter will contain some more information about those certain matters. The King sends his greetings and wants to know whether… the gift is serving you well, my Lord" the envoy asked, handing a letter to Elrond and avoiding his eyes.

The Elf Lord frowned. He took the letter and did not answer, only dismissed the envoy, giving his allowance to stay in the palace and wait for the rest of the delegation. Erestor called Neremiel and she led the messenger and the guards out of the hall.

Elrond sent Glorfindel a tired glare. The letter was heavy in his hand, and he had a bad feeling about this. He sighed, looking away; Erestor was looking at him questioningly, but he shook his head at his inquiries and dismissed the small crowd, heading for his chambers.

/*/

The twins repeated everything they heard to their friend, who didn't move from his spot behind the wall. Legolas was surprised that Lathronios would sent someone informing about the coming of the bigger contingent, for it seemed like an unnecessary civility, totally unlike the King. He was glad, though. He could prepare at least mentally.

"So he did ask about me," he said miserably. "He will never leave me alone."

"He can't hurt you now," Elladan said convincingly. "He had given you away. He can hardly claim you back."

"Besides, you are not alone, we'll be with you all the time." Elrohir added. "Now, Erestor was looking for you; you better go there. Don't worry, the envoy and soldiers are being accommodated now, they won't be allowed to wander freely. You gonna be alright?"

Legolas nodded and trotted away in the direction of the kitchens, looking troubled and shaky. The twins and Verién exchanged looks; they weren't much surprised that Legolas was panicking. Dread gripped their own hearts with a cold grasp; something bad was approaching and their friend could be in a potential danger.

In the kitchens Erestor handed Legolas a big tray of dinner for the two Lords. The Elf took it carefully and went slowly through the corridors and stairs to the well-known chamber, feeling totally helpless and confused; he was afraid of confronting Elrond, but in the same time there was no one else he wanted to be close to more.

He knocked awkwardly and was let in.

Elrond was sitting alone. He raised his eyes from the letter he was reading and approached to help him put the heavy tray on the table. Their hands met briefly.

"Can I help with anything else?" Legolas whispered, standing awkwardly in front of his Master.

"No. Thank you." Elrond glanced at his face; Legolas eyes were swollen and overly dry from rubbing them. He could see red blotches on his cheeks left by long crying. Elrond felt a sting of guilt. He wanted to say something, but he recalled he is supposed to be offended.

Legolas stood awkwardly for a moment, before making a move as if he wanted to walk out. He stopped however and opened his mouth to speak; he hesitated.

"I… I wanted… I am sorry," he said quietly. "It was all my fault. At first I disagreed at the trip, because I knew you will be angry, Master, and so they decided to stay after all, if I was unwilling. But they said I should open up, come to meet new people, start to get used to unknown surroundings and believe that not everyone out there is intent on hurting me. They said I should start to behave like a normal young Elf and you would approve, Master, if you saw me… more confident… more normal." He sniffed miserably. "I didn't want to let them down. They were doing this for me. They earned your wrath just for me. I… I didn't want to disrespect you, Master, or to cause you any trouble… Nobody was to ever find out… so I lied on top of everything, and I'm so sorry for that… It's all my fault… It's just, I do want to be better… like everyone else. Normal. I know this is what you would want of me, Master. But I… messed up everything… It's all my fault," Legolas swallowed nervously against a lump in his throat. "I feel awful and horrible, repaying you for everything you have done for me with disobedience. I never thought much about feeling guilty and sorry for what I've done… up to now… they used to punish me without any transgression… but… to disobey _you_…"

Legolas' face shrank and tears started to run down his cheeks. Elrond sighed, watching him tremble.

He came around the table and embraced him, pulling him against his chest. "I understand," he said. "Your apology is accepted."

Legolas sobbed with relief and clutched his Master's robe with both his hands, whole his body shaking. "I'm so sorry," he kept repeating, hiding his face in Elrond's chest. "I will never disobey you again, Master. Never." Elrond sighed.

"You can't promise that," he said sadly. "But for once, I'm glad that you didn't mention about requesting a punishment." Legolas' head came up and he glanced at Elrond incredulously, pouting his wet lips slightly. "You acted maturely. I am not angry at you anymore."

"Thank you, Master," Legolas whispered.

Elrond couldn't help leaning in to the fair Elf. In this miserable, shaken mood he was today the beauty before him was almost too much. Million thoughts ran through his head, all the things he said to Glorfindel, all he heard in response and this heart-wrenching apology. He was confused to the point of dizziness, but he couldn't force his body to stop the contact with this smaller, warmer, slender creature, who was crying because of him. He touched his forehead to the one of Legolas and felt wetness on his cheek where he touched Legolas' face. More of his tears followed and Elrond involuntarily closed his lips over the salty droplets, touching the pale skin. Suddenly the guilt and grief came dangerously too close.

"Don't cry," he whispered to the blond Elf. "Please, Legolas, stop crying…"

He felt the Elf nod almost imperceptibly and sniff.

"I'm not…" he shuddered.

"Good…" Elrond whispered and with impossible effort of willpower grabbed Legolas' shoulders to delicately separate them.

"Listen…" he started, trying to gather his thoughts enough to speak. "The delegation from Mirkwood will arrive within two days. They send a few royals… a merchant… they want to discuss new trade routes, something… else…" he shook his head, unable to focus. "I want you to stay close to the twins. We will see how it will look like, but you won't be walking alone at any time, just to be sure. The messenger inquired about you. I don't like this. But don't worry, nothing bad will happen. I… I won't let any harm come to you."

Legolas nodded too quickly. Elrond knew he was putting on a brave mask.

"I won't have time, though… I mean… we need to postpone the lessons. Just for a few days, until they're gone. I want you to keep practicing, though." Elrond said, trying to catch Legolas' eyes. The Elf whispered his promise to practice, but kept his eyes down. "Legolas, look at me" Elrond ordered.

He found that he can't really read those blue eyes. They held strange emptiness that could mean so many things.

"Don't get scared. You are safe. And as for lessons… we will make up for it. And you can always use my private library, it is always open to you. You can always come here."

Legolas bowed his head.

"Thank you, Master" he choked out.

They stood in front of each other not saying a word, until Glorfindel came in to the chamber to accompany Elrond in his meal. Legolas left hurriedly.

/*/

_What was that…?_

Legolas went out and practically ran down the corridor to lean on the first door he encountered behind a corner. He put his forehead to the cold wood and breathed heavily, feeling his frantic heartbeat almost in his throat.

That moment with Elrond… what actually was that? _He__held__me,__Legolas__recalled__feeling__heat__on__his__cheeks,__and__he__kissed__my__face.__He__forgave__me__… __He__did,__and__he__told__me__not__to__cry__… __what__is__happening__to__me?_

His heart raced and his hands were slightly shaking. He combed his fingers through his hair, irritated at the sudden tingling of his scalp in places where Elrond's fingers touched him.

_This__must__be__stopped,_Legolas shook his head. _What__am__I__thinking?__I__can__'__t__behave__like__this,__I__can__'__t__think__this__way,__I__need__to__handle__my__body,__he__will__see__and__he__will__be__angry!__I__must__know__my__place.__It__'__s__obvious__that__Master__Elrond__is__to__be__worshipped,__but__it__can__'__t__go__too__far,__can__'__t__go__that__far,__this__is__unthinkable__… __He__was__only__being__his__kind__self,__he__forgave__me,__and__I__am__impudent__enough__to__think__… __to__compare__him__to__what__Lindir__did!_

"No," he whispered to himself, rubbing his neck violently. "No. I am such a… how could I even think that! No, this is wrong; and this was the first and the last time." He assured himself, pushed himself away form the wall, straightened his clothes and hair and decisively banned the thoughts away from his head.

He went down the stairs slowly, giving himself time to calm down. With each step he felt better, breathing deeply and forcing his mind to leave the images behind. He was more or less himself as soon as he reached the main downstairs corridor.

He decided to check if Belithravien does not need any help. He made his way to the kitchens, but seeing that the dinner is already served in the Hall of Fire, he headed there to help in distributing the wine or cleaning up. When he was just behind the corner, he saw that the Mirkwood guards are leaving the Hall and his heart started beating frantically again.

He hid as best as he could, gluing himself to the wall and praying to every deity he knew not to be spotted. But he wasn't fast enough. The Elf that wore the messenger's clothes must have noticed and recognized him, for he stopped with a deep frown, left the small group and followed him down the corridor. Not thinking much, Legolas started to run.

"Legolas!" the messenger exclaimed, catching up with him and grabbing both the Elf's arms to press him to the wall and thus prevent further escape. Legolas struggled in his grip, but suddenly stopped when he saw his face.

"Farlineor?" he said in awe, recognizing the Elf. They weren't friends, but Farlineor had never been mean to Legolas. As a messenger he held a low status and sometimes he appeared in the kitchens or the cellars, where he spoke with the slaves. "It is you! I feared it was…"

"I know, I know. Oh Valar, let me look at you! You look good!" Farlineor laughed, giving Legolas an approving, thorough glance. "Sweet Elbereth, you look very good. It warms my heart! Tell me, Legolas…" he suddenly became more serious. "…how do they treat you here?"

"Very good! I'm working at the stables." Legolas said, smiling.

"But… you know what I am talking about…" Farlineor stammered awkwardly. It was obvious that he wanted to ask if Legolas was kept as a pleasure slave.

"No. I'm not… used like that. They are all so kind to me, Farlineor." He pushed himself away from the wall and grabbed the messenger's hand. "Now you tell me, what with Moreth? And his mother? Is Silcan alright? What…"

"Calm down, my friend. They are all well. Silcan is alright, she recovered from the illness. Moreth's mother complains that her back hurts, but all in all she is well too. Moreth still works with the household. He told me that should I meet you in Imladris I am to give you this," he handed him a small parchment of paper. "I can read it to you. And tell me what to repeat him. It says…"

"I will read myself, Farlineor" Legolas said, taking the parchment with trembling fingers.

"But… you can't read," the messenger said, staring at Legolas. The Elf smiled abashedly.

"I can now. They are teaching me how to read and how to write," he whispered. Farlineor's jaw hung open.

"You really have a happier life here," he said. Legolas smiled and opened the parchment. It was covered with shaky, small letters, obviously written in a hurry. He recognized his friend's lettering; once Moreth had showed him how he writes, and Legolas remembered the shape of the mysterious marks on the small paper. It really had been a magical moment. One of very few happy moments.

_Legolas, I know someone else is reading this to you, so I hope it is someone you can trust. I hope there is someone you can call a friend in Imladris. I hope you are more happy there. We all miss you terribly, but we find comfort in the thought that you are at least safe and you recovered from your wounds. At least you are not in a dungeon. I want to believe that they treat you better there. Don't worry about us; we're holding on and although it's hard, we try to survive and don't lose hope. Tell Farlineor a few words to me, I want to hear from you. I miss you, my friend. Sometimes there are days so hard to endure without you. Silcan sends a kiss, and mum wants to tell you that she will never forget your help. I can only add: be happy, Legolas. I want you to forget about what happened here and live on. Send me a word. Moreth_

Legolas read the parchment very slowly not to misunderstand any word. He almost started to cry doing this: one, because Moreth wrote to him, two, because he could read it. He was able to read a short note without any help. He _could__read_!

He could read a message from Moreth.

"Should I repeat something?" Farlineor asked quietly, smiling. "Or do you wish to write it? I don't know if we'll be able to talk some more, so… I have a quill if you wish to compose a message now."

Legolas nodded and took the quill and a small, white parchment from Farlineor. He dipped the tip in the ink, laid the parchment on the wall and wrote:

_My best frend, I can write to you tis bcause I m lerning how to write. they treat me well and I even have a few frends. they all ar very kind. I thnk I m happy here. I feel good, the wonds have healed and they say I look beter. I mis you so very much, my frend. send gretings to Silcan and mum. Please dont give up. Please take care. Moret, I want to thank you for evrything you did. you ar my best frend ever. thank you, thank you, thank you! For givin me life agan. Legolas_

The letter was shorter than Moreth's one and full of mistakes, but Legolas was so proud of himself. Farlineor hid the parchment safely and patted Legolas' arm.

"I will tell him that you look happy. It will please him. You have no idea how often he speaks of you."

"Tell him he has no idea how often I think of him," Legolas responded.

Suddenly the twins appeared on the corridor, going out of the Hall of Fire. They spotted Legolas with the Mirkwood messenger and immediately approached them, wearing worried and agitated expressions.

"Is there some kind of a problem?" Elrohir asked, using his formal, cold tone. Elladan reached out and grabbed Legolas' hand, pulling him behind himself and giving the Mirkwood Elf a warning glance. Farlineor moved back and bowed low before Elrond's sons.

"My Lords, I didn't intend any harm…"

"It's alright, Elladan, I know him" Legolas came with help, wriggling out of the twin's hold. "He had always been kind."

Elrohir relented. Elladan stepped aside too, smiling nervously; after a while and an awkward glance towards his twin they bowed back in greeting.

"We welcome you then, if you are labeled as kind," Elrohir spoke. "I hope we didn't offend you in any way. We only want to care for our friend."

"Friend…?" Farlineor repeated, dazed. "You… befriended…" he turned his shocked eyes to Legolas, gesturing at the twins. Legolas laughed quietly.

"In fact, the sons of my Master have befriended me," he answered and the twins smiled warmly. "I am not alone anymore, Farlineor. I… I have never been so happy."

"I see that much," Farlineor muttered, smiling. Legolas went red and escaped with his eyes from his friends' teasing looks, folding the parchment of paper he was holding in his fingers.

"Look, I got a message from Moreth!" Legolas exclaimed, handing the paper to Elladan. The twin shot him a surprised and happy glare, then unfolded the paper and started to read the note with his brother.

"Legolas… I will take my leave. You are in good hands, you are safe… take care. Just… be careful during the next few days, alright? Until the delegation leaves. Take care of yourself."

Legolas glanced up slowly, suspicions crowding in his mind. The twins stopped reading and strained their ears.

"Farlineor… who will come with the delegation?" Legolas asked cautiously.

Farlineor sighed uncomfortably. "I don't know, 'lass," he said. "I was sent ahead, I wasn't there when the envoys set off. I don't know whom they sent. I just want you to be careful. I was ordered to inquire about you. I fear that the King hasn't forgot."

"He is under our protection," Elladan said. "No harm shall come to him."

"Besides, he was given to our Father. Your King can hardly claim him back, isn't that so?" Elrohir asked, laying a hand on Legolas' shoulder.

"No, he can't of course," Farlineor shook his head. "It's just… nothing, I'm probably overreacting. I will give your letter to Moreth. Take care."

"I will," Legolas nodded and Farlineor gave him a fierce, comforting handshake. He bowed to the twins and walked away. They watched him go with slight uneasiness; a seed of worry started to grow all of sudden. Elladan and Elrohir did not like the repeatable prompts of upcoming danger the slightest bit.

Legolas seemed worried too; he paled a little and his fingers clutched the small parchment like a lifeline. Finally Elladan snapped out of it and cleared his throat.

"Well… ' 'lass'? That's the word he used?" he asked teasingly.

"I believe so too," Elrohir smiled. "Your nickname?"

Legolas went red to the tips of his pointed ears.

"I think I'm gonna go find Verién, so that I can show her my letter," he said pretending to be offended.

Elrohir smirked. "Why of course, but we're going with you…"

"… 'lass." Elladan ended maliciously and laughed at the embarrassed protests that produced.


End file.
